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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


GRANDPA  DRUBAL  FINDS  LITTLE  WILL 


UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG 

OR 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  TWO  AMERICAN  BOYS  IN 
THE  DATS  OF  THE  COMMUNE 


EDWARD   KING 

AUTHOB  OF  "MY  PARIS,"   "  EUROPF  IN  STORM  AND  CALM,' 
ETC.,   ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA 
HENRY  T.  COATES  &  CO. 


COPYRIGHT,  1896, 

BY 
PORTER  &  COATE8. 


fs 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I.  THE  PLACE  VENDSME,            ....  1 

II.  THE  COMMUNE  STRIKES  HOME,           .       .  18 

III.  CITIZEN  JEAN  is  CALLED,       ....  85 

IV.  CITIZENESS  MAKCELLE 45 

V.  GRANDPA  DRUBAL  BECOMES  FAMOUS,    .        .  56 

VI.  BATTLE  AND  DISASTER 74 

VII.  TUB  ADVENT  OP  SNY 90 

VIII.  ON  MONTMARTRE,            .           .           .           .           .  Ill 

IX.  A  BREAKFAST  WITH  SNY,        .        .        .        .129 

X.  FRANK  AND  THE  HUNCHBACK,    .        .        .  147 

XI.  SNY  IN  HOSPITAL, 163 

XII.  THE  101  ST  TO  THE  FRONT,         ...  181 

XIII.  SNY'S  GHOST  AND  THE  SPIES,          .        .        .  193 

XIV.  THE  BLOW  FROM  THE  DARK,      .        .        .  215 
XV.  A  FRIEND  IN  NEED 225 

XVI.  FRANK  FEELS  THE  BLOW,    ....  240 

XVII.  DOMBROWSKI  AT   DINNER,           ....  252 

XVIII.  AGAIN  THE  HUNCHBACK 264 

XIX.  PLOT  AND  COUNTERPLOT,        ....  280 

XX.  DOMBROWSKI  ADOPTS  FRANK,      .        ,       .  294 

XXI.  IN  WHICH  SNY  REAPPEARS  AND  DISAPPEARS,  312 

iii 


iv 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAOB 

XXII.  AFTER  FIVE  WEEKS,  .        .        .  .828 

XXIII.  IN  LA  GRANDE  ROQUETTE,      .        .        .  344 

XXIV.  FRANK  SAVES  LATTRETTE 355 

XXV.  THE  ADVANCED  POST  BY  THE  SEINE,    .  370 

XXVI.  THE  CAPTURE  BY  NIGHT,   ....  383 

XXVII.  THE  TOCSIN, 399 

XXVIII.  FRANK  MAKES  MANY  DISCOVERIES,    .       .  410 

XXIX.  ALMON  CORNERS  REPENTS,     ...  438 

XXX.  LAURETTE  AT  THE  BARRICADE,  .        .        .  445 

XXXI.  THE  LETTER  FROM  DOMBROWSKI,  .        .  455 

XXXII.  THE  FORLORN  HOPE 470 

XXXIII.  THE  CONVENT  REFUGE,          ...  484 

XXXIV.  THEIR  DESPERATE  MISSION,        .        .        .500 
XXXV.  BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL,          .        .        .  515 

XXXVI.  FRANK    AND    His   COMPANIONS    TO    THE 

RESCUE, 528 

XXXVII.  CALM  AFTER  STORM,  543 


UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PLACE  VENDdME. 

THE  face  fascinated  the  two  boys. 
Will  clung  tightly  to  Frank's  hand  as 
he  gazed  up  at  the  strange  features  carved  in 
the  time-blackened  stone. 

He  felt  like  running  away,  for  the  face,  with 
its  fantastic  and  mocking  smile,  its  widely- 
opened  eyes,  which  seemed  to  express  a  vague 
horror  in  weird  contrast  to  the  merry  lips, 
thrilled  his  heart  with  fear. 

Yet  he  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  it. 

"  See,  Will,"  said  Frank,  "  there's  another 
one !  Don't  they  look  as  if  they  wanted  to 
eat  us?" 

Little  Will  recoiled  so  suddenly,  and  pressed 
Frank's  hand  so  nervously,  that  his  brother 
felt  impelled  to  add  reassuringly: 


2  TTNT5ER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

"  But  they  can't !  They're  old  stone  things, 
made  more'  n  two  hundred  years  ago.  Grandpa 
said  so." 

"  Ho !  "  said  Will ;  "  would  they  stop  eating, 
Frank,  because  they  are  old?  Grandpa  don't 
do  that." 

"Well,  your  grandpa  isn't  made  out  of 
stone,  is  he?" 

"  No,  that's  so,"  replied  Will  gravely.  He 
looked  up  at  Frank,  wondering  when  he  would 
be  able  to  talk  as  learnedly  as  his  elder  brother. 
"  Why,  they're  all  around  us,  Frank  !  Look, 
look!" 

"  Yes,  they  run  along  the  wall,  'way  up  to 
the  other  end  of  the  square.  I  wonder  why  a 
man  wanted  to  waste  his  time  carving  out  such 
things?  See  that  one!  How  it  scowls  !" 

The  boys  walked  slowly  down  the  broad 
pavement  facing  the  line  of  quaint,  old- 
fashioned  palatial  edifices  which  border  ths 
lower  part  of  the  Place  Vendome. 

The  fancy  of  the  architect  of  Louis  XIV.'s 
time  who  built  these  roomy  and  imposing 
structures  blossomed  into  the  decorative  faces 
which  so  interested  the  two  boys. 


THE  PLACE  VENDOME.  3 

The  great  stone  masks  were  still  where  they 
were  placed  in  the  closing  years  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  and  will  doubtless  look  down 
for  many  generations  to  come  upon  the 
tragedies  and  comedies  which  will  have  their 
brief  hours  in  this  central  quarter  of  Paris. 

"  Say,  Frank,"  said  Will,  as  they  paused 
before  an  arched  doorway  leading  into  a  court- 
yard, beyond  which  they  could  catch  a  glimpse 
of  tall  shrubbery  in  regular  rows,  and  the  up- 
raised gleaming  arm  of  a  marble  statue  airily 
poised  on  a  stone  pedestal,  "  how  did  all  the 
faces  come  there,  anyway?" 

"  A  man  put  them  there,  of  course.  You 
don't  suppose  they  grew  there,  do  you?" 
replied  Frank,  bestowing  a  swift  glance  upon 
the  small  Will,  whose  six  years'  presence  in 
the  world  had  not  enabled  him  to  submit  every- 
thing to  the  test  of  reason. 

"What  man  put 'em  there,  Frank?"  pur- 
sued Will  calmly. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  !  Some  old  Frenchman 
who  died  ever  and  ever  so  long  ago." 

"  What  did  he  put  'em  there  for,  Frank  ? " 
piped  Will. 


4  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

"Why,  to  look  at,  I  s'pose,"  Frank  an- 
swered rather  crossly,  for  he  knew  that  when 
Will  was  once  started  on  a  series  of  questions, 
he  was  capable  of  keeping  it  up  all  day. 

No  display  of  temper  could  shake  Will's 
purpose  when  he  was  in  pursuit  of  facts,  so  he 
continued  quite  sweetly : 

"  Who  told  the  man  to  put  the  faces  there, 
Frank  ? "  And  he  turned  his  large  blue  eyes 
full  upon  his  big  brother's  face,  and  assumed 
a  iook  of  intense  expectancy. 

"  Oh,  some  king  or  governor,  I  guess!  "  re- 
sponded Frank  hotly.  But  the  undaunted 
Will  was  upon  him  again  before  he  could  place 
himself  on  guard. 

"  What  made  the  king — or  the  governor —  " 
said  the  sweet  voice  of  Will,  making  its  way 
with  some  difficulty  over  the  long  words, 
"want  the  faces  put  there,  Frank?" 

"  Oh,  shut  up ! "  cried  Frank,  glaring  down 
from  the  height  of  his  fourteen  years  upon 
this  infantile  interviewer.  "You're  enough 
to  drive  a  saint  mad !  Here  comes  grandpa. 
You  better  load  him  up  with  questions!" 

Will  smiled  as  sweetly  as  before,  loosened 


THE  PLACE  VENDOME.  5 

his  hold  of  Frank's  hand,  and,  running  swiftly 
to  meet  the  colossal  figure  now  advancing 
toward  them,  threw  his  tiny  arms  around  one 
of  its  huge  legs  and  clung  there  laughing. 

"Grandpa  Drubal!"  cried  the  child. 
" Grandpa  Drubal!  Tell  me  why  those 
strange  faces  were  put  up  there  on  the  wall  ? 
Frank  don't  know,  or  else  he  won't  tell  me." 

At  this  moment  Frank  came  up  and  man- 
aged to  whisper  in  Will's  ear:  "You  ought 
to  be  thrashed  for  that,  and  I  guess  you  will 
be  when  I  catch  you  alone." 

But  Will's  courage  did  not  flag  in  presence 
of  this  dreadful  threat.  "  Grandpa  Drubal ! " 
he  persisted,  "can't  you  tell?  Don't  you 
know?" 

The  colossus  stooped,  and,  gently  disengag- 
ing the  boy's  clinging  hands,  took  the  small 
figure  tenderly  in  his  arms. 

"  Why,  no,  Will,  I  can't  tell  ye  jest  this 
minute,"  he  said,  in  a  deep  voice  which 
rumbled  and  rolled  like  distant,  retiring  thun- 
der. "But  I've  got  a  red-covered  book  to 
home  that  will  tell  us  all  about  it.  Come — 
come  in  !  Don' t  ye  want  nothin'  to  eat  to-day, 


6  UNDEE  THE  KED  FLAG. 

ye  poor  leetle  pirates?  Ben  waitin'  half  an 
hour  fur  ye.  An'  I  could  eat  a  load  of  hay 
an'  the  oxen,  too,  I  reckon." 

Their  way  to  the  modest  hotel  in  the  Rue  de 
Castiglione  in  which  Grandpa  Drubal  had  in- 
stalled the  little  party  took  them  past  the  very 
face  on  the  wall  which  had  so  terrified  Will 
when  he  first  saw  it. 

The  horror  was  still  in  the  stony  eyes  ;  the 
mocking  smile  still  hovered  about  the  move- 
less lips. 

"  Grandpa,  that  face  up  there  makes  me  feel 
all  creepy,"  said  Will,  giving  it  a  timid  glance 
over  the  old  man's  shoulder. 

The  colossus  made  no  answer,  but  gave  Will 
a  comforting  hug. 

As  they  passed  out  of  the  silent  Place  Yen- 
dome  a  great  flood  of  sunshine  fell  from  the 
blue  sky,  and  for  a  full  minute  enveloped 
them  in  its  glory.  Grandpa  Drubal' s  face 
was  sad,  and  bore  traces  of  deep  mental  suffer- 
ing. But  his  brow  cleared  as  the  magnificent 
light  transfigured  sky  and  air  and  sculptured 
walls  and  white,  shining  roadways,  and  a 
smile  flitted  across  his  lips.  He  turned,  with 


THE  PLACE  VENDOME.  7 

little  Will  nestled  in  his  strong  arms,  and 
stood  for  a  few  minutes  at  the  corner  of  the 
historic  Place,  gazing  at  the  splendid  scene, 
and  now  and  then  calling  Frank's  attention  in 
a  low  voice  to  things  which  struck  his  fancy. 

In  the  central  portion  of  glittering  modern 
Paris  the  historical  Place  Vendome,  with  its 
low  palaces  crowned  with  squat,  Mansard 
roofs,  and  its  broad  sidewalks  leading  past 
wide  carriage  doorways,  in  which  concierges 
in  livery  stand,  consequential  and  dignified 
as  soldiers  on  parade,  looks  ill  at  ease,  and 
as  if  it  regretted  its  vanished  occupants  of 
long  ago. 

The  brilliant  Rue  de  la  Paix,  a  street  filled 
with  the  shops  of  diamond  merchants,  dress- 
makers, and  milliners,  and  with  staid  and 
stately  hotels,  the  renown  of  which  dates  from 
the  days  of  postilions  and  post-chaises,  runs 
from  this  curious  Place  Vendome  to  the  great 
boulevards,  the  main  artery  of  Parisian  cir- 
culation. The  Rue  de  Castiglione  also  leads 
out  of  the  Place  at  a  point  directly  opposite 
the  Rue  de  la  Paix  to  the  trim  and  elegant 
Rue  de  Rivoli,  with  its  gray  arcades  and  its 


8  UNDER  THE   KED   FLAG. 

bewitching  outlook  upon  the  garden  of  the 
Tuileries. 

All  these  noble  streets,  celebrated  for  their 
massive  elegance,  are  usually  thronged  with 
carriages  and  pedestrians  during  the  winter 
and  spring  months  of  the  fashionable  season. 

But  on  that  soft  and  pleasant  March  morn- 
ing of  1871  there  was  little,  if  any,  movement 
in  the  streets.  Few  carriages  appeared  in  the 
Rue  de  la  Paix  ;  pedestrians  passed  hurriedly 
with  anxious  air,  glancing  timidly  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  Place  as  if  they  expected  to  see 
something  extraordinary  there. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  Place  stood  a  few 
cannon,  pointed  so  as  to  command  the  Rue 
de  la  Paix.  Behind  them  a  dozen  shabbily- 
attired  soldiers  were  wearily  pacing  to  and 
fro.  Grandpa  Drubal  put  on  his  glasses  and 
took  a  good  look  at  these  men,  whom  he 
noticed  now  for  the  first  time. 

"Frank!"  he  said,  with  a  little  tremor  of 
excitement  in  his  voice,  "  your  eyes  are  better 
than  mine.  Haven't  those  men  over  there  got 
a  red  flag  ?" 

The  boy  answered  promptly :    "  Yes,   sir, 


THE   PLACE  VENDOME.  9 

they  have.  I  noticed  it,  and  was  going  to  ask 
you  about  it.  You  know  they  told  us  in 
Bordeaux  that  the  red  flag  is  the  banner  of 
the  Commune.  But  those  must  be  govern- 
ment troops  there,  mustn'  t  they,  grandpa  ? 
For  they  act  as  if  they  owned  the  Place.  Yet 
they've  got  a  red  flag,  and  it  is  waving  right 
over  the  cannon.  Just  beyond  the  Napoleon 
column  there.  See!" 

"  Catamounts  and  kangaroos  !  "  ejaculated 
Grandpa  Drubal.  "I  should  say  I  do  see— 
a  great  deal  more  than  I  want  to."  He  glanced 
at  little  Will,  whose  head  had  fallen  heavily 
on  his  shoulder. 

"Come,  Frank,"  he  said  sharply,  "let  us 
go  to  the  hotel  quickly  and  get  something  to 
eat.  Then  I  reckon  we'd  better  shift  our 
quarters." 

"Why,  Grandpa  Drubal?"  said  Frank, 
catching  the  excitement  and  feeling  a  little 
tremor  in  his  young  breast.  "  They  say  there 
can't  be  any  more  fighting.  The  concierge  at 
our  hotel  says  the  Communists  are  all  cowards 
and  will  run  away  at " 

"  There,  there,  Frank  !    Stir  your  steps  ! " 


10  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

And  Grandpa  Drubal  moved  off  as  swiftly  as 
if  his  age  had  been  thirty  instead  of  more 
than  sixty. 

Their  hotel  was  in  the  Rue  de  Castiglione, 
and  as  they  were  leaving  the  Place  Vendome 
and  entering  that  fine  old  street,  the  sunlight 
died  away  and  the  shadows  fell  like  a  pall. 

At  the  same  time  the  street  became  black 
with  rows  of  silent  men,  dressed  in  rough, 
serviceable  uniforms,  and  wearing  caps  which 
reminded  Grandpa  Drubal  of  Civil  War  times 
at  home. 

So  suddenly  did  these  men  appear  that  one 
might  have  fancied  them  to  have  sprung  out 
of  the  ground.  Frank  rubbed  his  eyes  and 
tried  to  persuade  himself  that  it  was  a  dream. 

But  a  moment  later  he  was  rudely  jostled, 
and  found  it  a  stern  reality.  These  anxious 
citizen  soldiers  were  pouring  out  of  the  Rue 
Saint  Honore,  the  Rue  du  Mont  Thabor,  and 
the  Rue  de  Rivoli,  and  moving  rapidly,  in 
obedience  to  some  general  order,  to  the  Place 
Vendome. 

They  carried  their  guns  awkwardly.  Some 
of  them  were  prematurely  old  men,  who 


THE  PLACE  VENDOME.  11 

looked  as  if  they  had  been  overworked  from 
infancy  ;  some  were  great,  overgrown,  fellows 
with  bushy  hair,  who  smoked  short  wooden 
pipes  and  swore  strange  oaths  which,  fortu- 
nately, Grandpa  Drubal  and  his  proteges  could 
not  understand. 

Many  had  delicate  and  refined  faces,  and 
white  hands  which  caressed  their  sword  hilts, 
or  the  stocks  of  their  rifles,  as  if  their  owners 
were  anxious  for  a  fray.  Here  and  there  was 
a  vinous  and  bloated  fellow,  with  bloodshot 
eyes  and  tipsy  leer.  All  seemed  for  the 
moment  impressed  as  with  the  solemnity  of 
some  great  occasion  ;  and  they  moved  cau- 
tiously yet  resistlessly  onward,  casting  occa- 
sional glances  upward  at  the  windows  of  high 
houses,  as  if  anticipating  the  sudden  advent 
of  bullets  therefrom. 

"Just  so,"  thought  Grandpa  Drubal,  rightly 
interpreting  one  of  these  glances.  "  The  best 
thing  that  I  can  do  is  to  get  these  boys  in 
before  the  jig  begins." 

But  he  found  it  impossible  to  cross  the 
street,  which  was  now  entirely  blocked  up  by 
the  oncoming  masses.  After  waiting  five 


12  UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

minutes,  and  seeing  the  interpreter  of  his 
hotel  beckoning  frantically  from  a  balcony 
in  the  third  story  of  their  hostelry  to  make 
haste,  he  assumed  an  air  of  unconcern,  and 
cautioning  Frank  to  keep  close  beside  him,  he 
stepped  forward  and  tried  to  break  through 
the  line. 

He  regretted  it  a  moment  later,  when  he 
found  himself  pushed  back  by  two  rough 
fellows  with  bloodshot  eyes,  who  followed 
him  to  the  curbstone,  and  said  in  concert, 
gruffly  : 

"Where  are  you  going,  citizen?'' 

This  was  all  Greek  to  Grandpa  Drubal, 
whose  knowledge  of  foreign  languages  ex- 
tended no  farther  than  a  smattering  of  Indian 
dialects,  acquired  during  a  short  residence  on 
the  Southwestern  frontier.  But  he  saw  that 
it  was  a  question,  so,  waving  his  disengaged 
arm  wildly,  he  said  : 

"Me  American.  Me  go  hotel.  You  sabe 
American?  He  heap  good  man." 

On  what  theory  Grandpa  Drubal  reposed 
his  belief  that  it  was  necessary  to  talk  broken 
English  to  foreigners  it  would  be  difficult  to 


THE  PLACE  VENDOME.  13 

discover.  But  the  practice  was  successful. 
For  one  of  the  burly  men  said  to  the  other, 
with  an  air  of  great  condescension : 

"Could'st  thou  understand  the  English, 
Anatole,  thou  would' st  learn  that  the  citizen 
is  an  American,  from  the  land  of  liberty,  and 
that  he  seeks  his  hotel."  Then,  turning  to 
the  men  lumbering  steadily  past,  he  said,  with 
a  grand  theatrical  air  and  a  pompous  flourish 
of  the  hand : 

"Citizens,  I  ask  you  to  allow  this  son  of 
liberty  from  free  America,  with  his  proteges, 
to  pass  through  the  lines  to  regain  his  hotel. 
In  the  name  of  liberty  the  Commune  must 
accord  all  favor  to  the  land  of  freedom? 
Open  the  ranks,  citizens  !  " 

"Connu,  fa/"  growled  a  white-faced  man 
whose  hands  were  scarred  and  seamed  with 
traces  of  acids.  "  How  do  you  know  that  the 
old  boy  is  not  a  Prussian  spy,  and  the  two 
momes  with  him  just  for  a  blind  ?  Hang  on  to 
him  and  have  him  examined,  I  say  !  Bring 
him  into  the  Place,  and  I'll  question  him  at 
the  drum  head  !  " 

"  No — no — no  !  "  shouted  a  hundred  voices. 


14  UNDER   THE   RED   FLAG. 

"No  use  in  seeing  spies  everywhere.  We 
have  work  to  do."  Then  a  piping  voice  cried : 
"Let  the  old  man  pass  through  in  peace  if  he 
will  shout  *  Liberty,  Equality,  Fraternity  ! '" 

"You  not  comprehend?"  said  the  citizen 
with  the  theatrical  manners,  turning  to 
Grandpa  Drubal. 

"Not  a  blamed  word,"  said  that  gentleman, 
who  was  beginning  to  get  angry  at  the  delay, 
and  was  anxious  for  the  safety  of  the  children. 

At  this  juncture  the  white-faced  man  dis- 
played a  knowledge  of  English.  He  came  up 
to  Grandpa  Drubal  and  said,  with  a  sinister 
smile  : 

"  You  want  get  hotel  before  ze  fight  begin, 
you  must  cry  loud,— ver'  loud,—  Liberte ! 
Egalite  !  Fraternite  !  Zen  ze  citizen  let  you 
pass!" 

"Oh,  is  that  all!"  said  Grandpa  Drubal, 
with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye.  "  Why,  they're 
good  words  enough,  and  I've  no  objection  to 
sayin'  'em,  though  I  can't  get  that  switchback 
pronunciation  of  yours  onto  'em.  So  here 
goes,  citizens !  And  then  you  pass  your  road, 
I  pass  mine." 


THE   PLACE   VENDOME.  15 

Standing  erect  and  gripping  the  puzzled 
little  Will,  who  was  half  ready  to  cry,  with 
one  hand,  and  taking  off  his  broad  felt  hat 
with  the  other,  Grandpa  Drubal  cried  in  a 
loud,  clear  voice:  "Hurrah  for  Liberty,  for 
Equality,  for  Fraternity  !  Come  on,  Frank, 
let's  go  to  lunch  I  " 

He  put  on  his  hat,  and  seizing  Frank's  hand, 
plunged  toward  the  marching  lines. 

They  parted  to  right  and  left,  and  some  of 
the  rough-looking  men  took  off  their  caps 
and  saluted  the  colossus.  A  dozen  of  them 
sent  up  a  shout  of  "Adieu,  Citizen!"  but 
as  Grandpa  Drubal' s  ears  were  not  attuned  to 
the  French  form  of  those  words,  the  politeness 
was  entirely  lost  upon  him. 

"  To  the  Place  Vendome !  to  the  Place  Yen- 
dome !  Let  the  aristos  see  that  we  are 
strong!"  shouted  the  leaders. 

And  as  Grandpa  Drubal  and  the  boys 
reached  the  porte  cocker e  of  their  hotel  they 
heard  a  tremendous  roar  of  exultation,  and, 
turning  hurriedly  around,  they  saw  the  red 
flag  of  the  Commune — the  terrifying  symbol 
of  the  vast  insurrection  which  was  slowly 


16  UNDER  THE   BED  FLAG. 

folding  the  mighty  city  in  its  deadly  embrace 
—unfurled  to  float  in  the  capricious  March 
breezes. 

"  Oh,  monsieur  ! "  said  the  alarmed  land- 
lord, coming  down  three  stairs  at  a  bound  to 
meet  Grandpa  Drubal  and  the  boys,  "  we  are 
under  the  crimson  now,  sure  enough!  May 
Heaven  send  its  lightning  upon  them  and 
their  blood-red  flag,  or  we  shall  all  be  mur- 
dered in  our  beds  !  " 

"Wai,  the  murderin'  don't  seem  to  have 
begun  yet,"  remarked  Grandpa  Drubal,  "and 
I  reckon  we'll  have  time  to  take  a  bite.  Here, 
Will,  wake  up  and  have  something  to  eat." 

"  Monsieur  is  very  calm,"  said  the  inter- 
preter, coming  in  with  a  queer  smile  on  his 
face.  "And  at  such  a  moment !  I  envy  mon- 
sieur !  I  saw  the  villains  menacing  monsieur. 
But  monsieur  was  very  brave.  From  the  bal- 
cony I  saw  it  all." 

"  Order  some  coffee,  please,  hot  and  strong," 
said  Grandpa  Drubal  curtly.  And  the  inter- 
preter withdrew. 

The  long  windows  in  the  dining-room  were 
open,  and  the  noise  of  the  clang  of  weapons, 


THE  PLACE  VENDOME.  17 

the  rumble  of  cannon  wheels,  the  shouting 
and  angry  brawling  of  hundreds  of  men  drifted 
in.  The  servants,  with  scared  faces,  glided  in 
and  out,  noiselessly  as  ghosts. 

"  Whew  1 "  said  Grandpa  Drubal,  tugging 
at  his  cravat,  "  I  feel  as  I  always  feel  at  home 
just  before  a  roaring  and  booming  thunder- 
shower  breaks  loose  1 " 


CHAPTER    n. 

THE  COMMUNE   STRIKES   HOME. 

RANDPA  DRUBAL  was  the  affection- 
ate  appellation  given  to  Mr.  Hasdrubal 
J.  Corners,  a  prominent  citizen  of  St.  Joseph, 
Mo.,  by  his  grandsons,  Frank  and  Will. 

Sixty-two  years  had  left  their  traces  in 
abundant  wrinkles  on  the  noble  and  rugged 
features  of  the  strong  man,  who  was  six  feet 
three  in  height,  weighed  240  pounds,  and 
had  a  fist  like  a  sledge-hammer.  Hasdrubal 
Corners  was  built  of  the  stuff  out  of  which 
they  make  grand  pioneers,  prudent  yet  daring 
sea  captains,  and  conquering  generals. 

Fate  made  him  a  pioneer  and  sent  him  into 
the  Southwest. 

Born  among  the  granite  hills  of  New  Hamp- 
shire, something  of  the  unyielding  strength  of 
his  native  State  had  got  into  his  moral  as  well 
as  his  physical  constitution. 

He  passed  unscathed  through  the  contagion 


THE  COMMUNE  STRIKES  HOME.  19 

of  the  frontier.  If  the  rough  life  had  left 
upon  his  speech  some  traces  of  its  contact,  it 
had  done  him  no  harm  in  other  particulars. 
Hasdrubal  Corners — "  General  Corners,"  as 
he  was  universally  called  in  the  Southwest — 
was  a  man  "  to  tie  to,"  as  his  own  people 
aptly  phrased  it. 

When  he  settled  in  the  handsome  town  of 
"  St.  Jo,"  and  built  a  fine  mansion  for  himself, 
his  son,  and  the  new  wife  whom  that  son  had 
brought  from  the  East,  it  looked  as  if  General 
Corners  were  to  spend  the  declining  years  of 
his  life  in  peace  and  simple  joys. 

But  he  had  one  trouble  which  preyed  upon 
his  soul.  That  trouble  was  his  son. 

Almon  Corners  was  a  man  of  thirty  before 
he  showed  signs  of  instability  of  character. 
Then  he  gave  way  to  drink  and  drugs. 

For  a  time  he  rallied,  but  suddenly  his 
charming  young  wife,  the  mother  idolized  by 
Frank  and  Will,  was  taken  away. 

This  was  but  a  year  after  the  birth  of  little 
Will,  and  the  stroke  fell  heavily  upon  the 
two  men  left  with  the  boys  in  the  great  white 
mansion  among  the  trees.  Almon  Corners  re- 


20  UNDER  THE  KED   FLAG. 

lapsed,  drew  upon  himself  the  reprobation  of 
his  father  and  the  community,  and  after  two 
or  three  years  disappeared  without  expla- 
nation, leaving  the  two  little  boys  to  their 
grandfather's  care. 

Grandpa  Drubal  was  rich,  and  lavished  his 
affection  and  his  money  upon  Frank  and  Will. 
Entirely  devoted  to  their  happiness,  he  could 
have  been  happy  himself  had  not  his  heart 
bled  for  his  wayward  son. 

One  day  early  in  1870  a  letter  with  a  for- 
eign postmark  met  his  gaze  as  he  seated  him- 
self at  the  breakfast  table.  It  was  dated  at 
Bordeaux,  in  France,  and  was  a  piteous  appeal 
from  his  son  Almon  for  a  large  sum  of  money 
to  save  him  from  impending  trouble  and 
disgrace. 

There  was  not  a  line  to  indicate  what  the 
writer's  course  had  been  since  he  had  deserted 
his  home  ;  not  a  word  as  to  his  intentions  for 
the  future.  The  erring  father  sent  his  love  to 
Frank  and  Will,  and  added:  "I  know  that 
they  are  well  cared  for,  and  are  better  off  than 
with  their  good-for-nothing  father." 

Hasdrubal  Corners  gritted  his  teeth  when  he 


THE  COMMUNE  STRIKES  HOME.  21 

read  this  letter.  But  he  sent  more  money  than 
was  asked,  and  an  entreaty  to  his  son  to  come 
home,  be  forgiven,  and  redeem  his  manhood. 

After  anxiously  awaiting  an  answer  for 
some  months,  he  began  systematic  enquiries  as 
to  his  son's  whereabouts.  He  finally  discov- 
ered, through  the  consul  at  Bordeaux,  that 
Almon  Corners  had  been  employed  in  a  wine 
exporting  house  there ;  was  dissipated  and 
"  badly  noted,"  and  had  left  for  Paris,  where 
he  could  perhaps  be  found  by  a  careful  search. 
"But  Paris,"  added  the  consul  in  his  polite 
note,  "is  like  the  ocean.  You  may  pass  al- 
most within  hailing  distance  of  your  dearest 
friend  and  never  know  it." 

Hasdrubal  Corners  now  felt  drawn  toward 
Europe  and  Paris.  He  determined  to  take 
his  grandsons  with  him,  place  them  in  good 
schools,  and  then  devote  his  time  to  hunting 
for  his  son. 

Just  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  starting  for 
Europe  the  Franco-Prussian  war  broke  out. 
He  waited  impatiently  for  its  close.  But 
when  January  of  1871  arrived,  and  the  French 
cannon  still  thundered  defiance  at  the  Teu- 


22  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

tonic  besieger,  he  hastened  to  New  York  with 
Frank  and  Will,  and  took  passage  for  Eng- 
land, whence  they  went  to  Bordeaux. 

Various  explanations,  which  amounted  to 
nothing  save  to  determine  that  Almon  Corners 
had  not  improved  while  in  Bordeaux,  kept  the 
old  man  in  that  city  until  the  middle  of  March. 

Then  he  learned  that  the  war  was  virtually 
at  an  end,  and  he  departed  for  Paris  with  the 
boys,  arriving  there  on  the  day  of  the  out- 
break of  the  Commune. 

But,  as  he  heard  the  insurrection  laughed  at 
as  "abortive"  and  "likely  to  finish  in  a  few 
days"  by  the  English-speaking  persons  with 
whom  he  came  in  contact,  he  gave  it  little 
thought. 

Now  it  had  come  to  his  very  door,  and  was 
thrusting  its  crimson  flag  in  his  face.  What 
if  new  horrors  were  to  come — if  civil  war, 
gaunt  and  terrible,  should  stalk  among  the 
poor  people  who  had  hardly  yet  recovered 
from  the  hunger  of  the  siege  ? 

Grandpa  Drubal  was  thinking  of  these 
things,  and  of  his  recreant  absent  son,  as 
he  sat  in  a  French  imitation  of  an  Ameri- 


THE  COMMUNE  STRIKES  HOME.  23 

can  rocking-chair  in  the  long  dining-room, 
which  was  now  deserted  by  all  save  himself 
and  Frank.  Little  Will  had  been  stowed  away 
for  an  afternoon  nap  in  the  bedroom  where  the 
two  boys  slept  beside  their  grandfather ;  and 
Frank  was  taking  observations  of  the  Place 
Vendome  from  behind  an  orange  tree  in  a  huge 
blue  box  in  the  dining-room  balcony. 

Grandpa  Drubal  heard  Frank's  shrill  voice 
once  or  twice,  but  he  fancied  that  the  boy  was 
talking  with  the  interpreter,  "Jean  Yercinge- 
torix  Durand,"  an  imposing  personage  with 
a  wax  complexion,  high  cheek  bones,  oblique 
eyes,  almost  Chinese  in  appearance,  and  long, 
drooping,  jet-black  mustaches  overhanging  a 
pair  of  malicious-looking  red  lips. 

"Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand !  Great  snakes  1 
what  a  name  ! "  murmured  Grandpa  Drubal ; 
and  then  his  head  went  wig-wag,  and  his  eyes 
closed  sleepily,  and  he  drew  a  long  breath. 
"Not  now,  Almon,  boy;  not  another  cent, 
now,  till  you  reform." 

It  was  in  thinking  of  his  absent,  erring  son 
that  Grandpa  Drubal  had  fallen  asleep. 


24  UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

Suddenly  he  awoke  with  a  great  start,  and 
found  himself  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
long  room,  trembling  violently,  and  reaching 
out  his  hands.  A  presentiment  of  trouble 
flitted  through  his  mind.  He  felt  weak  and 
old  for  a  moment. 

Stepping  to  the  table,  he  was  pouring  out  a 
glass  of  wine  when  he  heard  Frank  shouting 
excitedly  and  apparently  in  some  alarm  : 

1 '  Grandpa  Drubal !  Grandpa !  Why  don' t 
you  come  and  see  this,  and  tell  me  what  it 
means?  It  looks  dreadful — as  if  they  were 
going  to  shoot  all  these  people.  Do  come ! 
I've  been  yelling  at  you  for  five  minutes!" 

The  old  man  rubbed  his  eyes  and  hastened 
to  the  long  window,  which,  like  all  windows 
in  France,  swung  open  like  two  folding  doors, 
and  gave  access  to  the  roomy  balcony  over- 
hanging the  street. 

"I  have  been  napping/'  he  thought,  "and 
it  was  Frank's  shouting  that  woke  me  up." 

He  found  Frank  running  back  and  forth  in 
high  excitement  and  listening  to  the  voluble 
explanations  of  the  interpreter,  who  seemed 
strangely  moved  by  the  scene.  The  cheeks  of 


THE  COMMUNE  STEIKES  HOME.  25 

Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand  were  flushed,  his 
eyes  flashed  as  if  he  were  engaged  in  combat, 
and  his  mien  was  defiant. 

"Look,  grandpa,"  said  Frank,  seizing  the 
old  man's  hand  and  urging  him  forward  to  the 
edge  of  the  balcony.  "You  can  see  every- 
thing in  the  Place  Vendome  from  here  as 
well  as  if  you  were  hanging  over  it  in  a 
balloon.  That's  what  Jean  says,  and  it  is 
true,  isn't  it?" 

"Wai,  it  does  look  that  way.  But  what 
ails  the  critter?  He's  all  worked  up,"  said 
Grandpa  Drubal,  pointing  to  the  interpreter, 
who  was  leaning  over  the  railing,  shaking  his 
clenched  fist  and  muttering  strange  words 
which  sounded  like  oaths.  Once  or  twice  he 
raised  both  hands  above  his  head  and  gave  a 
mighty  shout. 

"He's  cracked,"  whispered  the  old  man. 
"The  excitement  of  to-day  is  too  much  for 
him." 

"  See,  grandpa,"  said  Frank,  without  notic- 
ing the  last  remark,  "Jean  has  explained  it 
all  to  me.  You  notice  that  great  crowd  of 
nicely  dressed  people  moving  up  there  ?  Well, 


26  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

that's  the  Rue  de  la  Paix.  Near  the  entrance 
to  the  Place— Valmdome,  Jean  calls  it,"- 
Frank  made  a  face  at  the  French  pronuncia- 
tion— "there's  ever  so  many  thousands  of 
them.  See — men  and  ladies — waving  their 
parasols — and  children — fluttering  their  hand- 
kerchiefs. Jean  says  that  they  are  trying  to 
persuade  the  Communists  to  give  up  the  insur- 
rection and  go  home.  Look !  Look !  they  are 
flourishing  their  canes  and  parasols  again! 
Oh  !  what  was  that  ?  It  sounded  like  a  shot !" 

Jean  Yercingetorix  Durand  was  clinging  to 
the  balcony  now,  gazing  down  at  the  animated 
throngs  with  a  fixed,  ferocious  stare  frightful 
to  contemplate. 

Grandpa  Drubal  noticed  it,  and  remembered 
long  afterward  how  much  it  resembled  the  look 
of  a  tiger  about  to  spring  upon  its  prey. 

"A  shot  1  It  was  a  shot!"  said  Grandpa 
Drubal,  and  he  instantly  became  alert  and 
vigorous.  "Frank,  run  up  to  my  bedroom 
and  bring  down  my  big  field-glasses !  We'll 
get  at  the  rights  o'  this!  Don't  wake  up 
little  Will :  let  him  sleep  as  long  as  he  can  ; 
as  we  may  have  to  move  this  evening." 


THE  COMMUNE  STRIKES  HOME.  27 

Frank  ran  to  obey,  and  Grandpa  Drubal, 
approaching  Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand, 
tapped  him  on  the  shoulder  and  remarked  : 

"You  appear  to  be  much  interested  in  yon- 
der scrimmage." 

The  interpreter  turned  haughtily  around. 
"  I  am  witnessing  the  triumph  of  the  people, 
as  the  citizen  sees,"  he  said.  "  Does  the  citi- 
zen like  the  picture  ? " 

"Oh,  you're  one  of  'em,  are  you?"  said 
the  old  man,  grimly  surveying  him.  "  A  full- 
fledged  Communist,  hey  ?  Why,  I  heard  you 
calling  them  all  pirates  and  cowards  not 
twelve  hours  ago." 

"Citizen,  one  must  be  prudent.  But  now 
the  hour  has  come!  Look  down  there,  citi- 
zen, and  you  will  see  the  blow  struck  which 
will  deliver  the  city  into  our  hands.  Those 
richly  dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen  there  are 
fools.  They  think  they  have  but  to  say,  '  Dis- 
perse, citizens  ! '  and  we  disperse.  But  let  the 
citizen  watch,  and  he  will  see " 

"  Murder  and  riot,  perhaps.  Hey  ?  Is  that 
what  you  mean?"  said  Grandpa  Drubal, 
turning  away  in  disgust. 


28  UNDER  THE  BED   FLAG. 

Close  behind  the  orange-tree  box  he  came 
upon  Frank,  his  hands  empty,  his  cheeks  ashen 
pale,  his  eyes  starting  from  their  sockets. 

"  Why,  where's  the  glasses,  boy  ?  Wha- 
what's  the  matter?" 

"Oh,  grandpa!"  said  Frank  chokingly, 
"Will  isn't  up  there!  His  bed  is  empty.  I 
hunted  for  him  all  around,  but- 1  can' t  find 
him.  What  if  something  dreadful " 

Grandpa  Drubal  felt  as  if  an  iron  hand 
were  placed  upon  his  heart  strings.  But  he 
tried  to  be  brave. 

The  image  of  the  sweet-faced,  blue-eyed, 
rosy-cheeked  little  fellow  of  six,  with  his  bird- 
like  pertness  and  quickness  of  movement,  and 
his  insatiable  curiosity,  rose  before  him.  He 
caught  Frank  by  the  shoulder.  "  Run  and 
look  again  !  I'll  call  the  servants  !  " 

"Grandpa,"  said  Frank  solemnly,  "I  don't 
believe  there's  a  soul  in  the  house  but  us.  I 
ran  downstairs  ;  the  doors  are  wide  open,  but 
there's  no  one  in  the  offices,  and  the  street  is 
as  still  as  death." 

"I'll  go  myself,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal, 
with  a  groan. 


THE  COMMUNE  STRIKES  HOME.  29 

Five  minutes  later  he  came  back  with  a  face 
whiter  than  Frank's.  "  He's  gone  !  "  he  said 
in  a  broken  voice.  "  My  little  lamb  !  And  I 
am  to  blame." 

Hardly  knowing  what  he  was  doing,  he 
strode  up  to  Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand,  and, 
seizing  him  by  the  shoulder,  shook  him 
violently. 

"  Do  you  hear  ? "  he  said  fiercely.  "  One  of 
my  little  grandsons  has  strayed  away,  and  it 
is  all  due  to  your  carelessness.  Do  you  under- 
stand ? "  he  roared,  giving  the  fellow  a  final 
shake  and  push,  which  sent  his  back  against 
the  orange  tree. 

The  interpreter  looked  fixedly  at  Grandpa 
Drubal  for  a  half  minute  while  regaining  his 
breath.  "What  is  the  safety  of  one  child, 
citizen,"  he  said  coldly,  "  at  such  a  moment  as 
this,  when  the  fate  of  a  city,  a  nation,  hangs 
trembling  in  the  balance  ?" 

"If  you  say  that  again,  you  speckled 
steer!"  roared  Grandpa  Drubal,  who  had  all 
the  Southwestern  touchiness,  "  I'll— I'll  smash 
ye  !  " 

"As  for  the  little  one,  citizen,"  continued 


30  UNDER  THE   BED   FLAG. 

the  interpreter,  readjusting  his  cravat,  ' '  there 
he  goes  now,  making  for  the  Place  Vendome, 
as  fast  as  his  legs  will  carry  him.  If  I  were 
the  citizen,  I  would  hasten  to  rescue  him,  for 
there  may  be  a  battle  in  the  Place  in  the  next 
few  minutes."  And  again  he  smiled  his  evil 
smile. 

Grandpa  DrubaPs  heart  seemed  to  leap  into 
his  throat.  He  looked,  and  there  indeed  was 
little  Will,  straying  unconcernedly  across  the 
deserted  Rue  de  Castiglione,  and  making 
straight  for  the  crowded  Place  Vendome,  where 
the  shouting  and  shrieking  were  momentarily 
growing  louder. 

"Oh,  grandpa,  I'll  bet  he's  going  to  see 
those  old  faces  again !  He  seemed  to  take  a 
great  fancy  to  'em.  But  if  he  goes  in  there  he 
may  be  killed." 

"Ketch  a  holt  on  me,  Frank,"  said  his 
grandfather,  dropping  into  the  vernacular  in 
his  excitement.  "  I  kain't  afford  to  lose  you, 
too.  Now,  let's  run  for  it,  and  get  the  leetle 
feller  before  he  is  in  mischief." 

Neither  ever  knew  how  he  got  downstairs  ; 
they  remembered  that  they  had  shouted  to 


THE  COMMUNE  STRIKES  HOME.  31 

Will  before  leaving  the  balcony,  and  that  he 
had  not  heard  them,  but  had  gone  steadily  for- 
ward. When  they  reached  the  street,  Will 
had  disappeared  in  the  Place  Vendome. 

The  old  man  uttered  a  cry  of  dismay,  but 
sped  on,  Frank  flitting  lightly  beside  him. 
Into  the  Place  they  rushed,  scarcely  noticing 
that  two  stout  soldiers  were  rapidly  erecting  a 
barricade  on  the  side  of  the  Rue  de  Castiglione 
opposite  to  them. 

Will  was  not  to  be  seen.  Grandpa  Drubal 
was  peering  into  the  crowd  of  Communists 
grouped  around  the  Napoleon  column  in  the 
centre  of  the  square,  thinking  that  the  child 
might  have  gone  there,  when  the  sound  of 
sharp,  rattling  volleys  of  musketry  rang  forth. 

Then  came  a  chorus  of  shrieks,  frantic  cries, 
curses,  prayers,  and  pleas  for  mercy  strangely 
commingled. 

Clear  and  high  above  all  rang  the  wail  of 
a  woman. 

The  blue-black  uniformed  soldiers  who  were 
massed  around  the  column  broke  into  little 
groups  and  pressed  back  toward  the  Rue 
de  Castiglione.  The  old  man  and  Frank  were 


32  UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

caught  in  this  retreating  mass  and  hurried 
helplessly  hither  and  yon.  Then  there  was 
a  rush  forward  ;  and  a  second  rattling  volley. 

Grandpa  Drubal  saw  a  tri-color  flag  go  down 
at  the  entrance  to  the  Rue  de  la  Paix,  and  the 
crimson  banner  go  up  in  its  place. 

Now  came  a  great  beating  of  drums.  All 
the  Communists  rushed  forward,  and  Grandpa 
Drubal  found  himself  kneeling  very  near 
a  restive  horse's  heels,  and  slowly  pulling 
poor  little  Will  out  of  the  dangerous  neigh- 
borhood of  the  fiery  creature. 

Yes,  it  was  Will,  in  a  dead  faint  and  appar- 
ently with  one  arm  broken.  He  had  been 
thrown  down,  and  his  arm  had  been  trampled 
on  by  hurrying  feet. 

But  he  was  alive,  and  Grandpa  Drubal 
hugged  him  to  his  breast  as  closely  as  he 
dared,  remembering  the  injured  arm,  and 
Frank  danced  about  like  a  wild  boy  and 
called  Will  all  the  pet  names  he  could  think  of. 

"Let's  run  for  it,  grandpa,"  said  Frank; 
"we  may  get  shot  here." 

"The  battle  seems  over,  Frank."  And  the 
old  man  stood  gazing  spellbound,  for  half 


THE  COMMUNE  STRIKES  HOME.  33 

a  minute,  on  the  ghastly  scenes  before  him. 
Frank  held  his  breath  and  looked  too,  and 
a  curious  feeling  of  cold  crept  along  his  spine. 

Five  minutes  ago  the  Rue  de  la  Paix  had 
been  packed  with  richly  attired  men  and 
women,  adjuring  the  Communists  to  retire 
from  the  Place  Vendome. 

Now  not  a  living  person  was  to  be  seen  in 
the  whole  broad  street. 

But  just  opposite  the  entrance  to  the  Place 
lay  a  ghastly  heap  of  dead  bodies,  and  round 
about  them  the  white  stones  were  red  with 
blood. 

A  woman's  pallid  face,  with  widely  opened 
eyes,  startled  Frank  as  he  gazed  on  this  terri- 
ble scene.  The  woman's  white  hand  was 
extended  in  a  little  pool  of  blood,  and  the 
dead  fingers  seemed  to  clutch  at  the  pavement. 

"Come,  Frank,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal, 
holding  little  Will  gently,  and  blowing  in 
his  face  in  the  hope  of  reviving  him.  "  Home, 
quick  1  Run  ahead  and  get  the  camphor  out 
of  my  valise  !  " 

As  he  hurried  through  the  Place  he  found 
himself  challenged.  A  barricade  was  already 


34  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

erected,  and  lie  and  Frank  had  to  go  through 
a  very  narrow  exit.  Luckily,  none  of  the 
noisy  men  whom  he  had  met  a  few  hours 
before  were  there.  In  response  to  the  senti- 
nel's challenge  he  held  up  little  Will. 

"MonDieu!  the  child  is  dead!"  said  the 
sentinel  of  the  Commune,  mistaking  the  faint- 
ing fit  for  death.  He  took  off  his  cap,  and 
the  rough  men  on  the  barricade  followed  his 
example. 

"  Pass  on,  citizen ! "  said  the  sentinel. 


CHAPTER  III. 

CITIZEN  JEAN  IS   CALLED. 

"A  SECOND  siege,  Frank!  That's  what 
-LJL.  it  means ! "  said  Grandpa  Drubal,  in 
a  troubled  voice,  looking  over  his  gold-bowed 
spectacles  at  the  boys. 

Frank  withdrew  his  arm  from  beneath  little 
Will's  shoulder,  laid  his  brother's  head  gently 
on  the  great  square  French  pillow  which 
might  almost  have  served  as  a  mattress  for  the 
child,  then  turned  an  eager  pair  of  eyes,  in 
which  bright  tears  were  glistening,  full  upon 
his  grandfather. 

"Oh,  Grandpa  Drubal!"  he  said  tremu- 
lously, "what  if  we  had  lost  him?" 

The  old  man  made  no  answer  for  a  full 
minute.  He  looked  hastily  from  one  boy  to 
the  other,  as  if  he  feared  that  some  misfortune 
might  take  them  away  from  him.  Then  he 
sat  down  in  a  great  arm-chair  and  opened  wide 
his  arms. 

36 


36  UNDER  THE   RED  FLAG. 

Frank  sprang  into  them,  as  lie  bad  done 
when  a  little  boy.  But  an  instant  later  he 
extricated  himself  from  the  old  man's  loving 
embrace  and  stood  erect,  vigorous,  with  flash- 
ing eyes,  gazing  down  from  the  wide  window 
into  the  balconied  and  yellowish-white  walled 
street. 

"  Grandpa  Drubal,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  I  was 
a  man!" 

"Time  enough!  Time  enough,  Frank! 
Grown-up  folks  have  many  troubles !  But 
what  is  the  reason  for  your  hurry  now? " 

"I'd  like  to  be  a  man  so  that  I  could  help 
to  punish  those  villains  who  shot  those  women 
in  the  Place.  Don't  you  think  that  was  cow- 
ardly, Grandpa  Drubal  ?" 

' '  Of  course  it  was,  boy,  of  course  1  But  the 
soldiers  were  ordered  to  shoot,  and  they  had 
to  do  it,  I  reckon." 

"Then  if  little  Will  had  been  in  the  way, 
they  would  have  shot  him,  too?" 

Grandpa  Drubal  was  so  distressed  at  this 
suggestion  that  he  was  about  to  suspend  the 
conversation,  when  a  weak  treble  voice  from 
the  big  pillow  said: 


CITIZEN  JEAN  IS   CALLED.  37 

"They  wouldn't  'a'  shot  me,  I  bet  you! 
I'd  just  scrooched  down  and  let  the  bullets 
fly  over  me." 

"Now  you  have  done  it,  Frank!"  said  his 
grandfather  reproachfully.  "Just  as  Will 
was  dropping  off  to  sleep ! " 

"Grandpa  Drubal,"  said  the  small  voice, 
"  why  did  the  men  shoot  all  those  nice 
people?" 

"  Because  they  thought  they  were  going  to 
be  attacked  by  the  soldiers,  who  were  to  rush 
in  after  the  men  and  women  had  persuaded 
them  to  lay  down  their  guns,"  interposed 
Frank.  "That's  what  Jean  the  interpreter 
says." 

"Pshaw!"  said  Will,  with  the  gravity  of 
an  elderly  diplomat.  "I  don't  believe  that. 
It  sounds  like  a  poor  excuse." 

Grandpa  Drubal' s  eyes  twinkled.  '  *  I  reckon 
you  aint  dead  yet,  Will,"  he  said.  "You 
seem  to  have  lots  of  good  sense  left." 

"  I  think  they  shot  those  poor  people  so  as 
to  scare  everybody  else,"  continued  Will ; 
"  then  they  could  have  their  own  way.  If  I 
hadn't  fell  down,  grandpa,"  he  added,  after  a 


38  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

long  sigh,  "  I  might  have  seen  as  much  of  the 
fight  as  you  and  Frankie  did.  I  wish  I  wasn'  t 
so  little ! " 

Will  always  spoke  very  distinctly  and 
"used  the  best  words,"  as  his  grandfather 
said.  The  good  lady  who  had  watched  over 
his  progress  from  the  moment  when  he  began 
to  talk  was  very  precise,  and  Will  had  copied 
her  manner  and  her  speech.  This  gave  a 
quaint  finish  to  his  charming  little  personality. 

"Now,  Will,"  said  Frank  soothingly,  "you 
said  you  would  go  to  sleep  if  I  would  sing 
'  Old  Jim  Crow,'  and  I  sung  it,  and " 

"All  right!"  said  Will,  settling  back  into 
the  pillow.  "  But,  honor  bright,  now,  if  there 
is  any  more  shooting,  you  call  me,  Frankie, 
won't  you  ?  If  it's  a  real,  good  fight,  I  mean 
—not  just  a  skirmish,  you  know,  but  a  first- 
class " 

The  wee  voice  grew  fainter  and  fainter. 
Grandpa  Drubal  sat  listening,  with  a  pleased 
smile  on  his  face,  to  the  child's  regular  breath- 
ing. But  presently  he  heard  the  "Ta-ra-tan- 
ta-ras  "  of  a  corps  of  buglers,  and  a  grim  wrinkle 
came  into  his  brow. 


CITIZEN  JEAN  IS   CALLED.  39 

"Frank,"  he  said,  starting  up,  "where  on 
earth  do  all  these  fellows  come  from?  Do 
they  turn  the  paving  stones  into  Commun- 
ists 1" 

They  went  to  the  window  together  and 
watched  the  passage  of  a  dozen  battalions  of 
pale,  hungry,  overworked-looking  men,  neatly 
dressed  in  the  uniforms  of  the  French  National 
Guard,  and  well  armed  with  muskets  and  short 
swords. 

At  their  head  marched  a  huge  fellow  who 
looked  as  if  he  were  a  butcher  by  trade.  His 
jaunty  cap  was  perched  on  a  tumbled  mass  of 
hair  which  fell  in  a  cascade  upon  his  thick 
neck.  Around  his  waist  a  blood-red  scarf  was 
wound,  and  from  it  peeped  a  pair  of  large 
pistols. 

"Jean  says  that  there  are  two  hundred 
thousand  men  like  that,  all  armed  and  anxious 
to  fight,"  said  Frank.  "He  says  that  they 
are  going  to  march  on  Versailles,  where  the 
Government  folks  are,  and  that,  when  they 
have  taken  that  place,  France  will  rise  and 
join  with  Paris!" 

"  He  does,  eh  ?"  said  Grandpa  Drubal  dryly. 


40  UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"He  didn't  tell  ye,  I  reckon,  that  the  regular 
Gov'ment  is  bound  to  besiege  these  fellows 
in  Paris,  and  that  this  town  will  have  to  go 
through  a  second  siege,  maybe,  worse  than  the 
Prussian  one?" 

"No,  grandpa,  he  don't  believe  that,  I  know. 
He  thinks  the  Commune  is  bound  to  win,  and 
he  says  that  the  people  are  right  to  rise  and 
take  vengeance  after  being  kept  down  so 
Jong." 

"The  dog  he  does!"  said  the  old  man 
scornfully.  "A  second  siege!"  he  repeated, 
and  fell  to  musing. 

Grandpa  Drubal  was  meditating  on  the  dan- 
gers to  which  his  two  young  charges  might  be 
exposed  if  they  remained  in  Paris.  But  could 
they  leave  the  city?  A  moment's  reflection 
convinced  him  that  they  could,  since  the 
Prussians  had  occupied  the  Northern  Rail- 
way's line,  and  held  it  with  a  strong  force  for 
their  own  protection.  As  neutrals,  he  and  his 
grandsons  could  probably  pass  out.  Perhaps 
it  would  be  the  wisest  plan. 

Little  Will  was  fast  asleep.  Grandpa 
Drubal  led  Frank  into  the  small  drawing- 


CITIZEN  JEAN  IS   CALLED.  41 

room  which  opened  out  of  the  bed  chamber, 
and  was  about  to  tell  him  that  they  would 
try  to  leave  that  night,  when  there  was  a 
knock  at  the  door,  and  without  waiting  for 
an  invitation,  Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand,  the 
interpreter,  strode  in. 

He  was  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  a  National 
Guard,  and  seemed  proud  of  his  long  coat, 
white  gaiters,  low  cap,  with  jaunty  visor,  and 
belt  for  side  arms. 

In  one  hand  he  held  his  gun,  rather  gin- 
gerly, as  if  he  were  a  bit  afraid  of  it. 

His  demeanor  was  solemn.  It  had  a  tinge 
of  ferocity. 

Grandpa  Drubal  instinctively  placed  Frank 
behind  him  as  this  newly  uniformed  warrior 
came  in,  and  he  took  a  step  or  two  forward,  as 
if  to  be  ready  for  action. 

"Citizen,''  said  the  interpreter,  "I  don't 
bear  any  malice  for  that  little  thing  yesterday. 
We  were  both  very  much  excited.  We  call 
that — how  you  say  in  English — off.  Am  I 
right,  citizen?" 

Grandpa  Drubal  reflected.  "  I  was  a  leetle 
rough  yesterday,  I  reckon,  Mr. " 


42  UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"Citizen,  if  you  please."  Jean  raised  Ms 
cap  and  made  a  bow. 

"  Well,  Citizen  Jean,  I  was  rough  with  ye, 
and  I  ask  your  pardon.  Shake.  You  see  I 
was  worried  about  the  boy,  and " 

Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand  took  Grandpa 
DrubaFs  honest  palm  in  his  dark-colored, 
bony  hand  for  an  instant,  then  let  it  fall,  as 
if  afraid  of  it.  "I  am  glad  the  child  is 
better,"  he  said.  "The  arm  is  not  badly 
hurt?" 

He  spoke  English  correctly,  but  with  a  kind 
of  tum-tum-tum  accent  which  fell  unpleas- 
antly upon  Grandpa  Drubal's  nerves. 

"  No.  Horse  stepped  just  so's  to  pinch  the 
flesh  and  make  a  bad  bruise.  No  other  harm, 
thank  God !  But  it  was  a  perilous  moment,  I 
tell  ye!" 

"There  is  peril  everywhere  just  now,  citi- 
zen," said  Jean,  rolling  his  oblique  eyes,  and 
letting  his  gaze  rove  round  the  room,  as  if 
taking  an  inventory  of  the  traveller's  posses- 
sions. "Peril  in  the  air.  Peril  under  the 
earth.  Peril  in  the  walls  of  the  houses.  Peril 
on  every  hand,  citizen  ! " 


CITIZEN    JEAN   IS   CALLED.  43 

He  drew  from  a  breast  pocket  a  folded  paper 
and  showed  it  to  Grandpa  Drubal. 

"  This  is  my  summons,"  he  cried.  "  I- join 
the  great  insurrection  !  I  melt  into  the  mass, 
citizen!  I  toil  for  Liberty,  Equality,  Frater- 
nity !  Let  me  read  you  my  call." 

Frank  and  his  grandfather  drew  near  and 
glanced  curiously  at  the  letter,  which  was 
dated  the  previous  day. 

It  had  a  blue  seal,  stamped  with  these 
words:  "Central  Committee  of  the  National 
Guard,"  and  the  contents  of  the  missive  were 
as  follows : 

' '  CITIZEN  : 

"The  National  Guard  counts  upon  you.  As  the  cir- 
cumstances are  grave,  its  Central  Committee  now  holds 
permanent  sittings  at  No.  11  Rue  d'Onfroi.  It  awaits 
you  with  impatience. 

"  For  the  Central  Committee,  and  by  its  order, 
"  THE  SECRETARY-GENERAL." 

When  Jean  had  read  this,  in  his  neat  trans- 
lation, to  Grandpa  Drubal,  that  gentleman 
observed:  "They  seem  to  have  got  their 
claws  on  you,  Mister " 

"Citizen,  if  you  please." 


44  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

"Citizen  Jean.  You  don't  want  to  under- 
take anything  that  you'll  repent  of,  you 
know." 

A  savage  flash  came  from  the  black  eyes  of 
Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand.  "  Citizen,'.'  he 
said,  "  there  are  two  hundred  thousand  of  us. 
We  have  weapons,  ammunition,  and  twelve 
hundred  cannon.  We  hold  the  richest  city 
in  the  world  in  ransom.  Our  time  has  come. 
The  confederated  battalions  of  the  National 
Guard  have  long  waited  for  their  hour,  and 
it  is  here  at  last.  And  we  mean  to  have 
what  we  want." 

He  let  the  butt  of  his  gun  fall  noisily  to 
the  floor. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CITIZENESS  MARCELLE. 

A  MOMENT  later  he  seemed  to  regret 
that  he  had  shown  so  much  feeling. 
Then  a  cunning  look  stole  into  his  face. 

"I  am  surprised,"  he  said,  "that  you 
Americans  don' t  help  us  and  sympathize  with 
us.  For  we  alone  are  right.  The  government, 
with  its  Kings  and  Emperors  and  laws  and 
police,  is  wrong.  Look,  citizen,  that  is  what 
we  will  do  with  the  government ! " 

He  tore  a  bit  of  paper  from  his  letter  and, 
with  a  whiff,  blew  it  lightly  into  the  air.  It 
fluttered  a  moment,  then  floated  down  to  the 
floor. 

"That  is  the  way  that  the  old  order  will 
fall,"  said  Jean  Yercingetorix  Durand.  "  But 
that  was  not  what  I  came  to  say  to  you." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  that,"  said  Grandpa 
Drubal.  "I " 

"I  came  here  to  say  that  you  may  need 

45 


46  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

protection.  You  may  count  on  me,  citizen, 
and  if  you  will  trust  me,  you  may  trust  my 
wife  still  more.  La  void,  my  wife." 

Without  asking  permission,  he  opened  the 
door  and  led  in  a  tall,  angular  woman,  of 
forbidding  aspect. 

Her  face  was  thin,  with  high  cheek  bones. 
She  had  a  long  nose  and  a  pair  of  little  eyes 
which  sparkled  like  those  of  a  ferret.  She 
looked  so  sharply  at  Grandpa  Drubal  that  he 
felt  uncomfortable. 

"This  is  Marcelle,  my  wife,"  said  the  war- 
rior-interpreter. "  Citizeness  Marcelle  Cune- 
gonde  Durand,  at  your  service." 

Citizeness  Marcelle  nodded,  and  pulled  her 
imitation  Astrakan  cape  more  closely  around 
her  bony  shoulders.  She  was  dressed  in  black 
and  wore  list  slippers  on  her  feet.  On  her 
glossy  black  hair  reposed  a  plain  white  cap, 
on  which  was  pinned  a  vivid  red  badge  an 
inch  long. 

It  looked  like  a  blood  stain. 

Frank  took  an  instinctive  dislike  to  this 
woman,  who  did  not  deign  to  notice  him. 

"I  go  to  battle.    But  Citizeness  Marcelle 


CITIZENESS   MARCELLE.  47 

can  stay  and  attend  to  your  interests,"  pur- 
sued the  interpreter.  "Fortunately,  she 
knows  the  English,  for  we  lived  in  London 
some  time,  eh,  Marcelle  ?  " 

The  memories  of  this  foreign  residence  did 
not  seem  agreeable  to  Marcelle,  who  frowned, 
and  shot  a  sharp  look  at  her  husband. 

But  warned  by  a  return  glance  of  menacing 
character  from  her  husband,  she  managed  to 
smile  and  say:  "Yes,  citizen,  we  speak  your 
beautiful  language  a  little — ever  so  little. 
And  if  I  can  help  the  citizen  and  take  care  of 
the  children,  I  shall  do  so  gladly." 

She  raised  her  elbows,  her  shoulders,  and 
eyes  at  once,  as  if  appealing  to  Heaven  to  wit- 
ness her  sincerity.  Then  she  let  them  all  fall 
back  to  their  natural  position. 

Grandpa  Drubal  looked  carefully  at  the 
woman,  and  reflected.  It  was  true  that  she 
might  be  of  service  to  him  in  this  strange  sit- 
uation. He  was  willing  to  oblige  Jean  Vercin- 
getorix  Durand,  for  something  warned  him 
not  to  make  an  enemy  of  the  man. 

"Well,  citizeness,"  he  said  pleasantly, 
"we  have  two  little  boys  here.  One  of  them 


48  UNDER  THE   BED   FLAG. 

got  hurt  yesterday,  and  may  need  motherly 
care  at  any  time.  Suppose  you  take  a  look  at 
him?" 

Marcelle  nodded,  and  pulled  nervously  at 
her  Astrakan  cape.  So  Grandpa  Drubal  led 
the  way  into  the  bedroom,  where  Will  lay 
sleeping  soundly  upon  the  pillow,  his  chubby 
white  arms  thrown  back,  and  a  sweet  smile 
upon  his  cherubic  face. 

The  woman  bent  over  him  and  her  breath 
came  quickly.  Her  eyes  glistened  for  an 
instant ;  then  the  light  seemed  to  die  out 
of  them.  "C?est  un  petit  amour!"  she 
murmured.  "He  is  angel-ique.  Who  would 
not  like  to  take  care  of  such  a  pretty  crea- 
ture?" 

"Ah,  then  it  is  understood!"  cried  Jean, 
pulling  nervously  at  his  long  mustaches,  and 
in  his  excitement  carrying  his  rifle  barrel  so  as 
to  ensure  his  own  instant  demise  in  case  the 
weapon  should  happen  to  gooff.  "Marcelle 
will  stay  and  care  for  the  children,  while  I  go 
to  battle.  Is  it  not  so,  citizen  ?  You  shall 
make  your  own  terms.  The  landlord's  ser- 
vants have  all  run  away,  and  so  have  most  of 


CITIZENESS   MARCELLE.  49 

the  guests.  But  you  are  safe,  under  our 
protection." 

"  I  reckon  we  can  take  care  of  ourselves,  as 
far  as  safety  goes,"  said  the  old  man,  a  little 
sharply.  The  protection  of  Jean  Vercinge- 
torix  Durand  was,  for  some  reason  which  he 
could  not  explain,  disagreeable  to  him.  "  But 
if  your  wife,  the  citizeness,  will  stay  here  and 
help  us  out  she  shall  be  paid  properly  until 
we  go,  which  will  be  in  a  few  days." 

Jean's  face  clouded.  "  Don't  make  that 
mistake,  citizen,"  he  said,  "Stay  and  see  the 
vengeance  of  the  people.  Stay  and  witness 
for  free  America  that  we  are  in  the  right,  and 
that  tyranny  is  at  an  end  in  France.  Au 
revoir,  Marcelle ;  I  will  see  thee  when  we 
return  victorious  from  Versailles.  Look  after 
the  citizen's  interests.  Citizen,  I  salute  you ! 
Do  not  forget  that  you  are  watched  over  by 
the  Confederated  National  Guard ! " 

And  before  Grandpa  Drubal  could  stop  him 
he  had  bounded  out  of  the  apartment  and  was 
rapidly  descending  the  stairs. 

Citizeness  Marcelle  took  from  her  pocket  a 
small,  muddy-looking  newspaper,  and  sitting 


50  UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

down  in  a  corner  fell  to  reading,  as  if  she  had 
been  in  the  service  of  General  Hasdrubal  J. 
Corners  all  her  life. 

"Come  down  to  the  street  door,  Frank," 
said  his  grandfather.  "This  good  woman 
will  take  care  of  Will's  wants  if  he  should 
wake  up." 

"Certainly,  citizen,"  said  Marcelle,  "as  if 
he  were  my  own." 

When  they  reached  the  street  door  the 
landlord  was  standing  in  it  conversing  with  a 
tall,  pleasant-faced  man. 

"Ah,  here  they  are!"  cried  the  landlord, 
and  turning  to  Grandpa  Drubal  and  Frank  he 
said:  " This  gentleman  is  from  the  American 
Consulate.  He  wishes  some  fellow  country- 
men to  accompany  him  to  the  Place  Vendome, 
where  he  is  going  to  superintend  the  removal 
of  an  American  who  was  shot  there  yesterday 
when  the  'friends  of  order'  tried  to  invade 
the  place.  He  was  just  asking  me  if  there 
were  any  Americans  in  the  house  when 
you ' 

"Could  you  go  with  us?"  said  the  pleas- 
ant-faced man.  "Yes?  You  are  very  kind. 


CITIZENESS  MARCELLE.  61 

Don't  take  the  boy,  for  it  is  a  horrible 
spectacle ! " 

"Grandpa!"  said  Frank,  stamping  the 
ground  in  vexation,  when  he  heard  the  last 
remark,  "don't  go  without  me!" 

"Would  you  leave  poor  little  Will  alone 
with  the  citizeness,  Frank?"  said  Grandpa 
Drubal,  with  that  peculiar  look  in  his  eye 
which  signified  a  demand  for  obedience.  And 
Frank  regretfully  retraced  his  steps  to  the 
apartment,  after  learning  that  his  grandfather 
would  be  absent  but  a  short  time. 

The  pleasant-faced  man  was  the  vice-con- 
sul. "  This  American  who  was  shot  appears 
to  have  been  looking  on,  carelessly  enough, 
like  so  many  hundreds  of  others,"  he  said. 
"As  we  are  likely  to  see  stormy  times  we 
thought  it  a  good  chance  to  show  our  flag,  so 
that  the  insurrectionists  will  recognize  and 
remember  it.  And  I  am  obliged  to  you  for 
accompanying  me." 

As  they  went  along  Grandpa  Drubal  told 
the  vice-consul  who  he  was,  and  about  Will's 
adventure  on  the  preceding  day.  But  he  did 
not  say  a  word  concerning  his  mission  in 


52  UNDER  THE   BED   FLAG. 

search  of  his  lost  son.  A  pang  shot  through 
his  heart  as  he  thought  that  possibly  before 
this  dread  drama  of  the  insurrection  were  over 
he  might  find  that  son  lying  dead,  like  the 
poor  fellow  whom  they  were  going  to  see. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  Place  Vendome  there 
was  a  small  group  of  Americans  awaiting  the 
vice-consul.  Four  stout  servants  carried  a 
bier,  and  a  tall,  blond  man,  who  was  pointed 
out  to  Grandpa  Drubal  as  the  consul,  stepped 
to  the  front  carrying  a  flag-staff  wrapped  in 
oilskin. 

A  servant  cut  the  lashings,  the  consul  made 
a  quick  movement,  and  there  above  the  heads 
of  the  little  company  floated  "Old  Glory," 
with  its  stripes  streaming  in  the  wind  and  its 
stars  sparkling  in  the  keen  March  air.  Then 
the  small  procession  set  forth,  with  the  banner 
at  its  head. 

The  rough  soldiers  at  the  barricade  cheered 
the  flag,  and  an  officer,  who  looked  like  the 
ringmaster  in  a  circus,  waved  his  silver 
spangled  cap  in  the  air  and  cried,  "  alut  Set 
Fraternity  citoyens  !  "  as  they  passed. 

The  interior  of  the  square  was  littered  with 


CITIZENESS  MARCELLE.  63 

bottles,  which  had  been  drained  of  their  wine ; 
with  bread  crusts,  rinds  of  cheese,  and  frag- 
ments of  meat.  An  open  fire  smouldered  on 
the  paving  stones,  and  two  or  three  hundred 
soldiers  were  seated  around  it. 

Over  the  ancient,  stately  edifice  from  which 
the  commander  of  the  government  garrison  of 
Paris  had  so  recently  fled,  a  red  flag  was  flut- 
tering. A  gawky  sentinel  with  surly  features 
was  leaning  in  the  doorway  watching  a 
painter,  who  was  inscribing  over  the  entrance, 
in  bold,  black  letters,  the  words:  "Liberte, 
Egalite,  Fraternite ! " 

The  consul  led  his  party  across  the  square 
to  the  arched  entrance  of  a  long  hall,  in  time  of 
peace  used  for  the  lottery  drawings  which 
accompany  the  sale  of  city  bonds  in  Paris. 

A  long  row  of  rude  shelves  had  been  erected 
there,  and  on  them  the  dead  were  placed, 
clothed  just  as  they  had  fallen  the  day  before. 

The  dead  lady,  whom  Frank  and  his  grand- 
father had  seen  lying  with  her  white  hand  in 
a  pool  of  blood,  was  there,  with  the  same 
widely  opened  eyes.  An  old  man,  elegantly 
dressed,  with  a  sweet  smile  on  his  pale  face, 


54  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

and  a  huge  scarlet  stain  on  bis  broad  brow,  lay 
with  one  hand  pointing  forward,  as  if  indi- 
cating the  murderer. 

The  soldiers  had  their  caps  off  in  the  pres- 
ence of  death.  Even  the  sentinel  had  placed 
his  cap  upon  the  point  of  his  bayonet,  and 
stood  leaning  over  it,  and  studying  the  dead 
faces  with  a  vague  terror  in  his  eyes. 

Grandpa  Drubal  felt  a  sudden  faintness 
when  the  consul  paused  before  a  body  and 
said :  "  This  is  our  poor  countryman  !  "  He 
looked  quickly  at  the  face.  It  was  no  one 
whom  he  had  ever  seen  before. 

Why  had  he  feared  that  he  might  find 
his  own  wayward  son  there  ?  He  could  not 
tell. 

The  flag  was  laid  reverently  upon  the  body, 
which  was  lifted  upon  the  bier,  and  the  ser- 
vants bore  the  mournful  burden  away. 
Grandpa  Drubal  was  following  the  others 
slowly  out,  after  the  vice-consul  had  signed  a 
receipt  for  the  body  and  had  been  called 
"Citizen  Consul "  a  dozen  times,  when  he  was 
stopped  by  the  light  touch  of  a  hand  on  his 
arm. 


CITIZENESS   MARCELLE.        .  55 

It  was  the  bareheaded  Communist  sentinel, 
who  looked  him  smilingly  in  the  face,  and  said 
in  English,  with  a  strong  French  inflection  : 

"Why,  General  Corners,  don't  you  remem- 
ber me  1 " 


CHAPTER  V. 

GRANDPA  DRUBAL  BECOMES  FAMOUS. 

RANDPA  DRUBAL  knew  the  voice, 
and  it  so  startled  him  that  his  own  tones 
trembled  as  he  answered,  after  taking  a  good 
look  at  the  sentinel : 

"  Why,  Jules  Raisin,  can  this  be  yon  ?" 

"  Can  and  is,  citizen,"  said  the  sentinel, 
with  a  slight  emphasis  on  the  last  word. 
"  Soldier  of  the  Confederated  National  Guard, 
who  are  masters  of  Paris,  and  in  a  few  days 
will  control  France.  Then  France  will  drive 
the  enemy  from  her  soil,  set  up  the  old  repub- 
lic, and  go  on  gloriously  !  " 

Jules  Raisin  gave  the  military  salute. 

"Well,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal,  "if  France 
goes  on  as  fast  as  you  talk,  she'll  get  some- 
where right  soon.  But  how  is  it  that  I  find 
you  in  Paris,  fighting  in  support  of  an  insur- 
rection, instead  of  shaving  faces  and  cutting 
hair  in  St.  Jo?" 


GRANDPA   DEUBAL   BECOMES  FAMOUS.        67 

The  sentinel  drew  himself  tip  haughtily. 
"We  all  have  a  right  to  our  opinions,"  he 
said,  in  his  curious,  sharp  accent,  which  made 
every  word  pop  out  of  his  mouth  like  water 
from  the  neck  of  a  narrow  flask.  "  When  I 
had  made  some  money  by  working  at  my  trade 
in  St.  Jo  for  twelve  years,  I  came  home  here  to 
spend  it.  Well,  I  bought  a  little  house  in  the 
country,  about  ten  miles  from  Paris,  and  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  to  plant  roses  in  my  front 
garden,  and  cabbages  and  carrots  in  my  back- 
yard, for  the  rest  of  my  life,  when  along  came 
the  war  with  Germany.  My  house  was  occu- 
pied by  the  enemy,  my  furniture  was  ruined, 
my  poultry  and  pigs  were  all  eaten  up,  and 
the  banker  who  had  my  funds  ran  away  before 
the  Prussians  shut  the  Parisians  in.'* 

"  You  have  been  unlucky  ! " 

"Then  I  fought  through  the  war  in  my  bat- 
talion of  the  National  Guard.  Things  didn't 
go  to  suit  us  ;  we  have  always  been  suspicious 
that  the  Government  would  sell  out  our  new 
republic  to  some  King  or  Emperor,  and  so  we 
have  taken  the  matter  into  our  own  hands." 

He  glanced  hurriedly  around.    Two  old  men 


58  UNDER  THE   BED  FLAG. 

with  bushy  hair  and  rubicund  features,  and 
dressed  as  officers,  were  approaching. 

"  But  not  another  word  now  !  The  officers 
are  suspicious  of  everybody.  They  may  pun- 
ish me  for  speaking  to  you.  Give  me  your 
address,  and  I  will  manage  to  see  you  soon.  I 
wish  I  could  have  a  look  at  those  two  fine 
grandsons  of  yours !" 

"  They  are  both  here." 

The  sentinel  showed  his  amazement  by  open- 
ing his  eyes  widely,  pursing  up  his  lips,  and 
giving  a  prolonged  whistle.  "And  their 
father?"  he  said  gently. 

Grandpa  Drubal  hung  his  head,  which  was  a 
sufficient  answer  for  Jules  Raisin.  Then  the 
old  man  gave  his  address,  and  the  sentinel 
told  him  an  hour  at  which  he  could  come  on 
the  following  day.  Grandpa  Drubal  hurried 
to  rejoin  the  sad  little  procession,  musing  as 
he  went  along  on  the  sudden  changes  of  for- 
tune which  had  brought  the  once  prosperous 
barber  of  St.  Joseph  to  the  condition  of  a  com- 
mon soldier  in  an  insurrection. 

As  soon  as  the  old  man  had  disappeared, 
one  of  the  bushy-haired  men  stepped  up  to  the 


GRANDPA  DRUBAL  BECOMES  FAMOUS.    69 

sentinel.  "With  whom  were  you  talking?" 
lie  said  sharply.  "Beware  how  you  tell  idle 
tales  to  strangers." 

"That  is  the  great  General  Corners  from 
America,  citizen,"  said  Jules  Raisin,  straight- 
ening up  and  giving  the  officer  a  shrewd  look, 
in  which  amusement  and  malice  were  mingled. 
"The  great  General  Corners.  An  old  friend 
of  mine.  What  would  the  citizen  say  if  I 
should  rally  General  Corners  to  the  cause  of 
the  Commune?" 

The  bushy-haired  man  patted  the  sentinel 
on  the  back.  "A  brave  idea,  citizen!"  he 
cried.  "  One  which  means  promotion  for  you, 
or  I  am  much  mistaken.  By  the  bones  of 
Marat !  We  need  sympathy.  Bring  the  old 
American  general  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and  let 
him  see  the  enthusiasm  of  our  battalions  de- 
parting for  Versailles.  A  noble  idea,  citizen  ! " 
And  he  strode  pompously  away. 

A  week  passed  without  fresh  bloodshed 
within  the  walls  of  Paris.  The  central  quarters 
were  tranquil,  because,  as  Grandpa  Drubal 
expressed  it,  "all  the  folks  had  gone  away." 


60  UNDER  THE  KED   FLAG. 

Fifty  thousand  people  had  fled  after  the  mas- 
sacre of  the  Place  Vendome  ;  a  hundred  thou- 
sand women  and  children  went  out  in  long 
procession  and  scattered  through  the  villages 
just  out  of  reach  of  the  Paris  forts. 

The  Commune  had  been  declared  with  the- 
atrical ceremonies  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  The 
Central  Committee  of  the  Confederated  Na- 
tional Guard,  which  had  been  the  creator  of 
the  insurrection,  wanted  its  powers  confirmed 
by  an  election. 

It  succeeded,  but  a  formidable  faction  cast 
sixty  thousand  votes  against  it,  and  sowed  the 
seeds  of  future  discord. 

On  the  evening  after  the  election  Grandpa 
Drubal  received  the  following  singular  note, 
which  disturbed  him  more  than  he  would  have 
liked  to  confess : 

"  THE  EIGHTH  GERMINAL. 

"  Citizen  Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand, 
"  On  the  field  of  battle  : 

"  To  Citizen  Corners, 

"Paris: 

"  The  Commune  is  declared. 
"The  Revolution  is  begun. 


GRANDPA  DRUBAL  BECOMES   FAMOUS.        61 

"  The  infamous  Versaillists,  anxious  to  restore  mon- 
archy, are  marching  upon  Paris. 
"But  they  will  be  vanquished. 

"  Should  they  succeed  by  treachery  in  entering  the 
city,  they  will  be  blown  into  air. 

"  Petroleum  and  dynamite  are  our  allies. 
"  If  we  perish,  Paris  shall  perish  with  us. 
"  Vive  la  Commune! 
"Liberte,  Egalitt,  Fraternite! 

"  Give  Marcelle  the  news  that  her  husband  is  battling 
bravely  against  tyrants. 

"  Salut  et  fraternity 

"  JEAN  VERCINGETORIX  DURAND. 
"At  the  front." 

Certain  phrases  in  this  letter  convinced 
Grandpa  Drubal  that  the  calm  which  at 
present  so  surprised  everyone  was  but  the 
lull  preceding  a  fearful  tempest. 

He  knew  from  a  conversation  with  the  vice- 
consul  that  M.  Thiers  and  his  generals  were 
assembling  great  forces  at  Versailles,  and  that 
they  would  attack  the  Communists  as  soon  as 
they  could. 

The  vice-consul  advised  him  to  retire  from 
Paris  with  his  two  young  charges,  but 
promised  him,  in  case  he  decided  to  remain, 
such  protection  as  he  could  afford.  "  How 
much  that  will  amount  to,"  he  said,  "in  case 


62  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

of  actual  fighting,  and  the  invasion  of  houses 
by  a  furious  soldiery,  you  can  judge  as  well 
as  I." 

Grandpa  Drubal  remained,  and  it  was  Jules 
Kaisin  who  had  decided  him  to  do  so. 

The  Communist  soldier  had  made  many 
visits  to  the  hotel,  where  he  was  hailed  with 
delight  by  Frank,  who  had  often  been  on 
excursions  with  him  in  the  neighborhood  of 
St.  Jo. 

Little  Will  had  quite  recovered  now,  and 
joined  heartily  in  the  frolics  of  his  older 
brother  with  Eaisin,  whose  frank  manners 
and  genial  courtesy  made  his  Communist 
uniform  seem  a  disguise,  rather  than  the 
livery  of  his  opinions. 

Jules  Raisin  was  an  eloquent  talker,  and 
he  set  himself  at  work  to  convince  Grandpa 
Drubal  that  the  Commune  was  right. 

"  We  want  the  same  liberties  for  Paris  that 
American  cities  have  always  enjoyed,"  he 
said;  "and  we  will  fight  to  the  death  to 
secure  them.  America  revolted  against  unjust 
government ;  we  have  done  the  same  thing." 

"  Yes,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal,  "but  America 


GRANDPA  DRUBAL  BECOMES  FAMOUS.        63 

didn't  raise  the  red  flag  ;  which  means  pillage 
and  abolition  of  private  property.  What 
have  you  to  say  to  that?" 

"  The  flag  of  the  revolution  means  protec- 
tion for  the  rights  of  the  people,"  said  Jules 
Raisin  hotly.  "  It  will  restore  to  the  people 
such  rights  as  were  taken  away  from  them. 
There  are  at  present  in  the  Bank  of  France  a 
billion  francs  in  coined  money,  a  billion  in 
gold  and  silver  ingots,  and  a  billion  in  paper 
money.  There  are  deposits  of  jewelry,  gold, 
and  plate,  belonging  to  ninety  thousand  fami- 
lies, in  the  same  bank.  Have  we  touched 
these  treasures?  Are  we  not  guarding  them 
safely  ?  The  men  who  are  keeping  watch  over 
them  do  not  get  enough  to  eat  daily.  Must 
we  be  taken  for  robbers  because  we  carry  red 
flags  stuck  in  the  muzzles  of  our  muskets?" 

But  such  special  pleading  was  without 
influence  upon  Grandpa  Drubal. 

When  he  saw  the  fingers  of  Citizeness  Mar- 
celle  working  with  nervous  energy,  while 
Jules  Raisin  spoke  of  the  treasures  in  the 
Bank  of  France,  he  maintained  his  old 
suspicions. 


64  UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

One  day  Jules  Raisin  persuaded  him  to  hire 
a  handsome  iron-gray  horse  for  himself,  a 
pony  for  Frank,  and  to  accompany  him  to  the 
Hotel  de  Ville,  where  the  terrible  "Central 
Committee"  of  the  Commune  had  installed 
itself,  and  from  which  point  it  sent  troops  to 
the  front  as  fast  they  could  be  put  into  shape. 

It  was  a  bright  and  beautiful  April  morn- 
ing. The  majestic  arch  of  the  blue  sky  was 
filled  with  genial  sunshine,  which  sent  earth- 
ward its  brilliant  rays  to  sparkle  upon  the 
grayish-white  walls  of  palaces  and  mansions, 
convents  and  gardens. 

Jules  Raisin  was  transformed  into  a  cavalry- 
man for  the  nonce.  But  such  a  rider !  Frank 
could  not  keep  his  face  straight  when  he  saw 
the  little  barber's  wiry  frame  bobbing  up  and 
down  on  the  back  of  a  huge  iron-gray  horse, 
which  was  more  accustomed  to  the  task  of 
drawing  heavy  omnibuses  than  to  that  of 
transporting  liery  cavaliers. 

"  Where  did  you  pick  up  that  animal, 
Jules?"  said  Grandpa  Drubal,  biting  his  lips. 

Citizen  Jules  was  meditating  a  sharp  answer 
when  the  big  iron-gray  bolted  down  the  Rue 


GRANDPA   DRUBAL   BECOMES   FAMOUS.         65 

de  E-ivoli,  into  which  they  had  just  turned, 
and  went  clattering  along,  with  Jules  clinging 
to  its  neck,  and  bestowing  on  him  all  the 
wicked  names  in  the  calendar  of  the  Com- 
munist. 

By  the  time  Frank,  who  was  a  fine  horseman, 
had  dashed  up  on  his  pony,  and  held  the 
bridle  long  enough  for  Jules  to  scramble  back 
to  his  place  in  the  saddle,  and  for  the  ex- 
omnibus  horse  to  compose  himself,  the  barber- 
warrior  had  forgotten  his  answer. 

But  he  managed  to  stammer:  "Of  course, 
I  cannot  ride  as  well  as  you  Americans  of  the 
West,  who  are  born  in  the  saddle.  And  you 
must  remember  that  I  am  an  infantry  man, 
and  mounted  to-day  only  to  accompany  you." 

"  Practice  makes  perfect,"  said  Prank 
politely.  "But  don't  go  into  battle  on  horse- 
back just  yet,  unless  the  enemy  rides  as 
badly  as  you  do." 

"  Pooh  ?  Live  and  learn,"  said  Jules. 
"  The  Commune  has  seized  two  or  three  thou- 
sand of  these  old  omnibus  nags.  It  pro- 
poses to  put  troopers  on  them,  and  so  create 
cavalry." 
5 


66  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

"I  think  the  horses  would  do  better  ex- 
ecution without  the  riders,"  said  Grandpa 
Drubal.  "Drive  'em  in  a  herd  against  some 
of  the  infantry  that  I've  seen,  and  dog  me  if 
they  wouldn't  carry  the  day!" 

Jules  Raisin  was  too  busy  holding  on  to  the 
saddle  to  notice  this  criticism  of  the  Com- 
munist foot  soldiers.  While  they  were  talk- 
ing they  were  passing  the  Palace  of  the 
Tuileries,  melancholy  and  uninhabited,  except 
by  a  few  sour-featured  guards,  who  looked 
hungry  and  aggressive. 

Frank  was  a  keen  admirer  of  beautiful 
architecture,  and  his  eyes  roved  with  delight 
over  the  simple  and  severe,  but  impressive, 
lines  of  the  great  wings  of  the  Tuileries. 

The  entrance  to  the  vast  courtyard  was 
open.  They  rode  in  unchallenged,  and,  pick- 
ing their  way  among  ammunition  wagons, 
cannon,  heaps  of  half-spoiled  provisions,  and 
piles  of  clothing,  they  entered  the  grand  inner 
court  of  the  Louvre  and  feasted  their  gaze 
upon  the  superb  stretches  of  colonnades  and 
the  lofty  porticos  ornamented  with  the 
statues  of  heroes. 


GRANDPA  DRUBAL  BECOMES  FAMOUS.    67 

"  And  to  think,"  said  Jules  Raisin,  making 
a  sweeping  gesture  which  included  the  Palace 
of  the  Tuileries  and  the  vast  museum,  with  its 
priceless  collection  of  works  of  art,  "  that  if 
the  Yersaillists  get  in  here,  and  we  have  to 
protect  our  line  of  retreat,  all  these  beautiful 
things  must  go  up  in  smoke!" 

Grandpa  Drubal  made  no  answer.  But  as 
he  thought  of  certain  phrases  in  the  strange 
letter  which  he  had  that  day  received  from 
Citizen  Durand,  he  shuddered. 

He  felt  convinced  that  the  vindictive  spirit 
of  the  people,  if  Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand 
was  a  good  type  of  the  mass,  was  strong 
enough  to  leave  Paris  in  ruins  rather  than  to 
surrender  it  hastily. 

Frank  was  fresh  from  a  course  of  reading  in 
French  history,  and  as  they  resumed  their 
journey  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville  he  told  his 
grandfather  the  story  of  the  invasion  of  the 
palace  by  the  mob  in  June  of  1792,  and  how 
the  people  had  insulted  and  menaced  the 
king  and  forced  him  to  put  on  a  red  Phrygian 
or  liberty  cap. 

"See,"  cried  Jules  Raisin,  "there  is  one  of 


68  UNDER  THE  BED   FLAG. 

the  same  caps  in  color  and  form  now,  on  the 
head  of  that  woman  trundling  a  barrowful  of 
vegetables  over  there  ! "  and  he  pointed  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street. 

The  woman  seeing  that  she  was  observed, 
took  off  the  emblem  of  revolution,  flourished 
it  in  the  air,  crying  in  a  hoarse  voice, 
"  Vive  la  Commune!  Vive  la  Revolution 
Sociale!" 

"She  looks  a  little  like  Citizeness  Mar- 
celle,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal  slyly.  And  at 
that  moment — he  could  not  tell  why — a  pang 
of  self-accusation  at  the  thought  that  he  had 
left  Will  in  the  care  of  that  singular  woman 
shot  through  his  breast. 

Yet  he  remembered  that  she  seemed  to  love 
the  child,  and  was  never  tired  of  ministering 
to  his  comfort. 

The  landlord,  who  sat  all  day  in  his  little 
office  near  the  street  door  of  his  hotel,  had 
promised  that  Will  should  never  leave  the 
hotel  alone,  and  he  would  keep  his  word. 
"No;  I  am  wrong  to  distress  myself,"  mur- 
mured Grandpa  Drubal.  And  he  turned  his 
attention  to  the  novel  scene  on  the  great 


GRANDPA   DRUBAL    BECOMES   FAMOUS.         69 

square  in  front  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  where 
they  arrived  just  as  a  committee  of  the  Com- 
mune was  sending  several  battalions  to  the 
front. 

Jules  Raisin  spurred  his  animal  as  much 
as  he  dared.  Frank  and  Grandpa  Drubal 
rode  up  gallantly  and  took  places  near  the 
little  knot  of  mounted  officers,  who  were  all 
uniformed  in  the  most  fantastic  manner. 

While  Frank  studied  the  beauties  of  the 
Hotel  de  Ville,  which  he  now  saw  for  the  first 
time,  Grandpa  Drubal  critically  examined  the 
troops  in  line,  and  made  up  his  mind  that 
they  could  not  stand  before  regulars.  He 
had  had  a  wide  experience  of  citizen  soldiery 
in  the  Civil  War,  when  he  had  campaigned 
with  the  Union  forces  in  Missouri,  and  his 
title  of  general  was  perhaps  better  deserved 
than  the  military  rank  of  any  man  in  the 
mass  which  he  at  that  moment  overlooked. 

"They  won't  stand,  Frank,"  he  said. 
"They  would  be  fierce  enough  in  rough-and- 
tumble  fighting,  but  in  a  regular  battle  I 
wouldn't  give  them  two  chances  out  of  ten." 

At  this  instant  Grandpa  Drubal  saw  that 


70  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

Jules  Raisin  had  been  joined  by  a  mounted 
officer  with  a  red  sash  worn  transversely  on 
his  breast,  and  that  the  officer  was  intently 
watching  him. 

He  looked  at  Frank,  who  pursed  up  his 
lips  to  indicate  that  silence  would  be  pru- 
dent. 

"  What  was  the  general  saying  ? "  asked  the 
Communist  officer,  addressing  Jules  Raisin, 
and  at  the  same  time  politely  saluting 
Grandpa  Drubal,  who  sat,  grim  and  military 
of  port,  erect  upon  his  horse. 

"General  Corners  was  remarking,"  an- 
swered Jules  Raisin,  in  French,  of  which 
neither  Frank  nor  Grandpa  Drubal  under- 
stood more  than  a  word  now  and  then,  "  that 
the  men  before  him  are  finished  models  of 
citizen-soldiers,  fit  to  do  battle  against  the 
finest  regulars  in  the  world." 

The  Communist  officer  flushed  with  pride, 
saluted  again,  talked  rapidly,  saying  "Ge-ne- 
ral  Cor-naire"  every  five  seconds,  and  adding 
"  A-me-ri-cain,"  at  which  Grandpa  Drubal 
bowed  and  smiled. 

Then  the  officer  galloped  to  the  front  of  the 


GRANDPA  DRUBAL  BECOMES  FAMOUS.        71 

troops,  and,  standing  up  in  his  stirrups, 
shouted  out  to  them  a  speech,  of  which  the 
substance  was  that  a  distinguished  general 
from  that  land  of  liberty — the  United  States — 
was  present,  and  had  expressed  his  unshaken 
belief  that  the  soldiers  before  him  could 
drive  the  Versaillist  regulars  off  the  face  of 
the  earth.  Whereupon  there  was  a  wild 
cheer,  and  cries  of  "Vive  le  General  Ameri- 
cain !  Vine  VAmerique  /"  and  the  men 
waved  their  gun-barrels,  each  one  of  which 
had  a  miniature  red  flag  stuck  in  it. 

"What  did  he  say  about  me?"  enquired 
Grandpa  Drubal,  rather  suspiciously,  as  the 
officer  stopped  speaking. 

Jules  Raisin  told  him  exactly  what  the 
officer  had  said,  and  there  was  a  little  twinkle 
in  his  eye  as  he  did  so. 

Grandpa  Drubal  made  no  comment.  But 
Frank  leaned  down  over  his  pony's  mane,  and 
said ,  under  his  breath  : 

"  Pretty  cold  cheek,  I  call  that,  on  Raisin's 
part!" 

And  now  a  singular  procession  came  down 
the  steps  of  the  vast,  picturesque  edifice  so 


72  UNDER  THE  EED   FLAG. 

intimately  connected  with  the  history  of  the 
revolutions  of  Paris. 

It  was  a  long  line  of  worried-looking,  rather 
unkempt  men,  dressed  in  black,  each  with 
a  blood-red  sash  about  his  waist. 

With  a  dazed  and  weary  air,  as  if  he  had 
not  slept  for  a  week,  the  leader  of  this  proces- 
sion of  delegates  from  the  terrible  "  Com- 
mune" made  his  way  to  the  line  of  troops, 
and  began  kissing  the  officers  on  their  cheeks 
and  shaking  hands  with  the  men,  while  the 
troops  cheered. 

The  official's  comrades  soon  began  to  imitate 
his  example,  and  Grandpa  Drubal,  bursting 
out  with : 

"Come,  Frank,  I  can't  stand  this!"  was 
cantering  away,  when  he  observed  Jules 
Raisin  giving  a  hint  to  some  of  the  officers, 
and  a  moment  later  cries  of  "  Vive  le  General 
Cornaire!  Vive  VAmerique!"  were  once 
more  heard. 

Grandpa  Drubal  frowned,  but  Frank  noticed 
that  his  back  was  straighter  than  usual,  and 
that  he  cocked  his  hat  a  little  to  one  side  as 
they  rode  away. 


GRANDPA   DRUBAL   BECOMES   FAMOUS.         73 

The  Commune,  in  its  "  Official  Journal"  of 
that  day,  published  the  rather  exaggerated 
statement  that  several  distinguished  American 
generals  had  called  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville  to 
express  their  sympathy  with  the  cause  of  the 
"Social  Revolution." 

From  the  Hotel  de  Ville  the  trio  took  a  long 
ride  up  the  Champs  Elysees  to  the  Triumphal 
Arch,  where  Jules  Raisin  had  to  leave  them 
to  go  back  to  his  post,  and  watched  the  defile 
of  infantry  and  artillery  on  the  way  to  the 
"field  of  battle,"  as  Citizen  Durand  called  it. 

Suddenly  the  thunder  of  cannon  was  heard 
— deep,  terrible,  menacing — beyond  the  hill 
of  Courbevoie,  and  the  great  throng  watching 
the  troops  sent  up  an  angry  shout. 


CHAPTER   VL 

BATTLE  AND  DISASTER. 

IT  was  a  grand  experience  for  a  boy  of 
fourteen. 

Frank's  pulses  beat  wildly  as  lie  looked  on 
the  vast  crowd  assembled  at  the  Triumphal 
Arch  to  witness  the  departure  of  the  Com- 
munist troops  for  their  first  important  battle. 

Boy  though  he  was,  he  could  fully  appre- 
ciate the  strange  character  of  the  scene. 

Clustered  around  the  magnificent  Arch, 
seated  in  landaus  or  victorias,  mounted  on  ele- 
gant horses,  or  standing  on  the  broad  side- 
walks, were  at  least  forty  thousand  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  most  of  whom  belonged  to  the 
aristocratic  classes  against  which  the  Com- 
mune had  set  its  harsh  face  and  raised  its 
crimson  banner. 

They  were  laughing  and  chatting,  and  now 
and  then  they  jeered  openly  at  some  poor 
Communist,  awkward  enough  in  his  uniform, 


BATTLE   AND   DISASTER.  75 

and  clinging  desperately  to  his  insecure  seat 
on  an  artillery  wagon. 

Frank  wondered  that  these  people  could 
have  the  courage  to  do  this,  after  the  terrible 
experience  of  the  "party  of  order  "  on  the 
day  of  the  massacre  in  the  Place  Vendome, 
and  he  asked  Grandpa  Drubal  what  it  meant. 

"  Mean,  my  boy !  It  means  that  the  rich 
people  think  the  Commune  is  going  to  encoun- 
ter defeat  out  there !  And  I  think  so,  too ! 
Why,  if  those  fellows  meet  regular  troops, 
they'll  be  eaten  up,  I  tell  ye!" 

"Sh — grandpa!"  said  Frank,  for  he  saw 
sharp  eyes  fixed  on  the  old  man,  and  Jules 
Raisin  had  already  told  him  that  the  newly 
elected  Commune  had  its  spies  everywhere, 
and  was  especially  fond  of  arresting  foreigners. 

Grandpa  Drubal  looked  keenly  at  Frank  for 
a  moment. 

"  Afraid  to  hear  the  old  man  speak  his 
mind,  be  ye?"  he  said.  "Wai,  I  guess  the 
American  flag  is  big  enough  to  cover  us,  if 
anybody  wants  to  tackle  us  for  expressing  our 
sentiments.  I  say  those  fellows  won't  fight, 
Frank,  not  after  the  first  brush ! " 


76  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

But  while  thus  defiantly  repeating  his 
opinion,  he  could  not  help  feeling  uncomfort- 
able. A  sense  of  his  own  helplessness,  sur- 
rounded by  the  waves  of  this  insurrection, 
overcame  him  for  the  moment. 

He  was  roused  from  this  mood  by  a  tremen- 
dous shout,  which  seemed  to  shake  the  very 
Arch.  It  was  one  vast  outcry  of  amazement, 
fear,  and  exultation.  After  it  arose  a  chorus 
of  feminine  shrieks  and  scornful  laughter. 
Then  the  crowd  began  to  press  backward  and 
away  from  the  Arch. 

"  See,  Grandpa  Drubal ! "  cried  Frank, 
"  Look  at  those  great  white  things  in  the  sky  ! 
Aren't  they  bombshells?  Oh,  look  at  that 
one!  How  fast  it  grows  big!  And  there's 
another!  Grandpa,  isn't  it  grand?" 

The  old  man  brought  his  horse  close  up  to 
Frank's  pony,  and,  leaning  down,  said  in  the 
low,  deep  tones  which  he  always  assumed 
when  he  meant  to  have  the  boys  obey  in- 
stantly :  "  Frank,  the  Versail lists  are  shelling 
the  Arch  and  all  the  country  round  about. 
They  see  the  Communist  artillery  coming  up. 
There  '11  be  fun  here  in  five  minutes.  And  if 


BATTLE  AND   DISASTER.  77 

you  don't  wish  to  get  trampled  down  in  the 
stampede  that's  coming,  you  follow  me,  jest 
as  you  followed  when  we  got  lost  in  the 
country  back  of  St.  Jo.  You  hear  me,  boy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Grandpa  Drubal,"  said  Frank.  But 
he  was  annoyed  that  he  should  be  taken  away 
at  the  moment  when  the  struggle  was  begin- 
ning. Frank  was  brave,  and,  like  most  boys, 
was  rash. 

Nothing  could  have  pleased  him  better  than 
to  saunter  down  the  wide  avenue  which  led 
out  beyond  the  Arch  to  the  Porte  Maillot,  and 
so  on  to  Courbevoie. 

From  some  mysterious  point  on  the  Courbe- 
voie range  of  hills  came  those  strange  white 
messengers  of  death,  which  looked  first  like 
little  puff  balls,  then  like  huge  eagles  floating 
on  wings,  then  suddenly,  as  they  passed  over- 
head high  up  in  air,  like  iron  cauldrons. 

He  felt  that  he  would  give  anything  he  pos- 
sessed if  he  could  see  the  gunners  loading  and 
firing.  Why  could  he  not  go  along  with  the 
Communist  batteries  and  see  the  fight  from 
this  side? 

He  was  about  to  ask  his  grandfather  this 


78  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

mad  question  when  the  shouting  was  renewed. 
He  felt  himself  violently  pushed  forward  ;  the 
little  pony  reared  and  snorted,  and,  looking 
up,  Frank  saw  a  dozen  Communist  cavalry- 
men, their  faces  dark  with  passion,  urging 
their  horses  upon  him  and  Grandpa  Drubal 
and  the  others  near  them. 

The  throng  was  parting  to  right  and  left, 
ladies  were  fainting  in  the  carriages ;  fright- 
ened coachmen  were  lashing  their  horses  and 
struggling  to  get  away  from  the  shells  and  the 
menacing  Communists. 

The  insurrectionists  were  in  a  dangerous 
mood.  They  insisted  that  the  shelling  of  the 
Arch  was  due  to  signals  made  from  the  crowd 
of  "aristos,"  although  this  was  impossible. 

They  attacked  the  flying  throng  with  savage 
force,  and  sent  it  away  from  the  Champs 
Elysees  into  the  side  streets.  When  the 
coachmen  did  not  move  quickly  enough,  they 
beat  them  over  their  shoulders  with  musket 
barrels  and  with  sabres.  They  threatened  the 
screaming  women  with  arrest.  And  while  the 
enormous  assemblage  dispersed  in  the  utmost 
disorder,  the  rumbling  and  creaking  artillery 


\ 


BATTLE  AND   DISASTER.  79 

train  went  on  without  interruption,  turning 
around  the  corner  of  the  massive  Arch,  and 
then  getting  into  a  sharp  trot  as  it  went  down 
the  avenue,  with  the  white  smoke  puffs,  which 
meant  the  enemy's  defiance,  hovering  above  it. 

"  Come,  Frank,"  said  Grandpa  Drnbal. 
"Enough  for  to-day.  Remember  that  we  are 
non-combatants.  We  are  bound  to  hear  some 
news  from  Citizen  Durand,  I  reckon,  unless  he 
gets  killed." 

As  they  made  their  way  as  best  they  could 
through  the  panic-stricken  company,  they 
heard  a  new  chorus  of  shrieks  behind  them, 
and  then  a  roar  of  execration.  A  minute  later, 
something  still  palpitating  was  borne  away 
on  a  cab  door  which  two  frantic-looking  men 
had  wrenched  from  its  hinges.  The  mass  was 
covered  with  a  dust  robe  from  the  cab. 

"Somebody  killed  by  a  shell,  grandpa?" 
queried  Frank,  with  a  little  tremor  in  his 
voice. 

"  Most  likely.     Come  on,  boy,  come  on  ! " 

And  presently  they  came  to  a  street  where 
there  were  few  people,  and  they  galloped  at 
ease  until  they  reached  the  Place  Vendome 


80  UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

and   saw   the   balcony    of   their    hotel   just 
beyond. 

In  the  Place  everything  was  in  commotion. 
New  battalions  were  marching  in,  drums  were 
beating,  scared  and  white-faced  orderlies  were 
cantering  hither  and  yon.  A  soldier,  visibly 
under  the  influence  of  wine,  swore  feebly  at 
Grandpa  Drubal  and  Frank  as  they  entered 
the  Rue  de  Castiglione,  and  told  them  that 
they  ought  to  be  at  the  front.  It  was  fortunate 
for  their  peace  of  mind  that  they  did  not 
understand  him. 

Grandpa  Drubal  found  little  Will  listening 
with  his  usual  birdlike  and  airy  pertness  to 
a  conversation  between  Citizeness  Marcelle 
and  another  curious-looking  woman.  Of 
course  he  did  not  understand  a  word.  "But 
Marcelle  will  tell  me  about  it  afterward, 
won't  you,  Marcelle  ? "  he  cried.  "  She's  told 
me  more'n  forty  stories  while  you've  been 
gone." 

The  stern  citizeness  turned  her  rather 
gloomy  features  toward  the  child,  and  as  she 
answered  him  a  heart-warm  smile  swept  over 


BATTLE  AND  DISASTER.  81 

her  features  and  seemed  to  illuminate  and 
transform  them. 

Grandpa  Drubal  noticed  this  smile,  and  it 
gave  him,  for  the  first  time,  confidence  in 
her. 

The  woman  with  whom  Citizeness  Marcelle 
was  talking  was  a  buxom,  brown-haired,  and 
rather  pleasing  person  of  twenty-five,  with 
a  broad  brow,  handsome  and  frank  violet 
eyes,  and  red,  full  lips  which  disclosed  two 
faultless  rows  of  dazzling  white  teeth. 

She  was  neatly,  but  plainly,  dressed  in  a 
gown  of  the  coarse  stuff  worn  by  the  street  ven- 
dors of  vegetables  and  flowers,  and  a  glance  at 
her  light  wooden  shoes,  in  which  she  moved 
about  with  as  little  noise  as  a  lady  in  slippers, 
at  the  knit  shawl  knotted  across  her  broad 
shoulders,  and  at  the  expansive  blue  apron 
with  its  many  pockets,  was  enough  to  show 
that  she  belonged  to  the  corporation  of  those 
who  cry  carrots  and  turnips  for  a  living. 

She  was  conversing  with  great  animation, 
and  something  in  one  of  her  gestures  was 
so  suggestive  of  shouldering  a  musket  that 
Grandpa  Drubal  said,  pleasantly : 


82  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

"  She  acts  as  if  she  thought  of  joining  the 
army?" 

"Why,  so  she  does,  citizen, "  responded 
Citizeness  Marcelle.  "  She  is  going  to  join  the 
101st  Battalion  of  the  Commune  as  vivan- 
diere — and  she  will  march  to-morrow." 

"Vivandeer,  hey?"  queried  Grandpa  Dru- 
bal.  "Oh,  yes:  woman  in  a  cocked  hat  and 
military  petticoat,  with  a  little  keg  of  rum 
and  water  for  the  poor  soldier,  hey  ?  Ruther 
dangerous,  isn't  it?" 

"  The  101st ! "  said  Frank.  "  Why,  that's 
Jules  Raisin's  battalion." 

"It  is,"  said  the  citizeness.  "Laurette, 
here,  is  Jules  Raisin's  cousin,  and  she 
wishes  to  serve  the  good  cause  in  the  same 
battalion  with  him.  Now,  General — citizen,  I 
mean " 

"Oh,  Marcelle,  I  caught  you  that  time," 
cried  Will,  gayly. 

Marcelle  turned  like  a  tigress  upon  little 
Will,  but  she  caught  him  up  in  her  arms  with 
tenderness  and  hugged  him  tightly  to  her  lean 
breast.  Then,  as  her  thin  hands  caressed  the 
child's  hair,  she  continued,  in  French  : 


BATTLE  AND  DISASTER.  83 

"The  citizen  knows  thy  cousin,  Lanrette. 
They  were  together  in  the  same  city,  out  there 
in  America." 

Lanrette,  the  vegetable  seller,  now  took  a 
good  look  at  Grandpa  Drubal.  Then  she  sud- 
denly laughed  merrily  in  clear,  silvery  tones, 
and  extended  a  plump  hand  to  the  old  man. 

"But  I  have  seen  the  citizen  before,"  she 
said.  "  He  was  riding  in  the  Rue  de  Rivoli 
beside  my  cousin  Jules,  and,  ma  foi !  he  is 
much  the  better  horseman  of  the  two." 

When  this  had  been  translated  to  Grandpa 
Drubal,  he  remembered  the  woman  whom 
they  had  seen  wearing  the  red  liberty  cap, 
and  asked  Laurette  if  she  were  the  person. 
Meantime,  he  shook  hands  gravely,  and 
requested  Marcelle  to  offer  the  handsome 
volunteer  a  glass  of  wine. 

But  Laurette  would  not  taste  wine.  She 
confessed  to  the  wearing  of  the  red  cap,  how- 
ever, and,  drawing  it  from  her  pocket,  she 
flourished  it  three  times  around  her  pretty 
head,  over  which  a  bit  of  black  lace  was  taste- 
fully draped,  and  cried,  rather  shrilly :  "Vive 
la  Commune!" 


84  UNDER  THE  BED   FLAG. 

As  she  uttered  the  cry,  the  smile  faded  out 
of  her  face,  and  was  replaced  by  a  fierce  ex- 
pression like  that  of  one  seeking  vengeance. 

Little  Will  shrank  back  from  her  as  she  gave 
the  war  cry  of  the  insurrection,  and  Frank's 
brave  heart  gave  an  extra  throb  or  two. 

Grandpa  Drubal  looked  at  her  like  one  in 
a  dream.  He  was  thinking  of  what  he  had 
been  told,  that  there  were  a  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  women  like  her  in  Paris. 

"  I  believe  they'd  fight  better  than  the  men, 
if  they  were  given  muskets  and  cannon," 
thought  Grandpa  Drubal. 

Laurette  lingered  to  talk  with  Marcelle  long 
after  the  old  man  and  his  two  boys  had 
finished  their  simple  luncheon.  He  noticed 
that  the  women  were  very  earnest,  and  that 
from  time  to  time  they  wept  silently. 

By  and  by  Laurette  arose  and,  politely  salut- 
ing Grandpa  Drubal  and  the  children,  said  : 

"Now  I  must  go  and  leave  my  vegetables 
and  my  cart  at  the  Halles  and  get  into  my 
uniform.  You  will  see  me  to-morrow  when 
the  101st  marches.  To  the  pleasure  of  resee- 
ing  you  !  Vive  la  Commune  !  " 


BATTLE   AND  DISASTER.  85 

She  gave  the  military  salute,  kissed  Mar- 
celle  on  both  cheeks,  turned  lightly  in  her 
wooden  shoes,  and  was  gone. 

"  A  heart  of  gold,"  said  Citizeness  Marcelle. 
"During  the  siege,  citizen,  she  literally 
starved  that  her  poor  old  bed-ridden  and 
imbecile  aunt  might  have  a  double  portion  of 
food.  And  now  she  gives  away  the  few  vege- 
tables that  she  carts  about  in  her  little  wagon 
whenever  she  meets  any  hungry  people.  She 
might  sell  them  to  rich  folk  in  the  hotels  for 
their  weight  in  gold,  for  the  vegetables  that 
we  have  seen  since  the  Prussian  siege  was 
ended  have  all  come  hundreds  of  miles,  from 
the  south  of  France.  But  she  is  too  gener- 
ous !  Ah,  heart  of  gold,  shall  I  never  see  thee 
more?" 

Citizeness  Marcelle  ended  her  sentence  in 
French  and  began  to  cry  at  the  same  time,  so 
Grandpa  Drubal  and  the  boys  went  into  their 
private  room,  and  there  the  old  man  fell  into 
deep  thought,  while  Frank  and  Will,  who 
heard  the  bugles  and  drums  in  the  street,  were 
wild  to  go  out,  but  dared  not  do  so  without 
his  permission. 


86  UNDER  THE  KED   FLAG. 

Grandpa  Drubal  was  reflecting  on  his  posi- 
tion. Evidently  the  vast  city  of  Paris,  with 
its  monuments,  museums,  palaces,  and  thou- 
sands upon  thousands  of  costly  residences 
was  soon  to  be  the  scene  of  a  horrible  struggle. 

What  was  his  duty  to  these  boys,  whom  he 
had  brought  with  him  to  Paris  ? 

Ought  he  not  to  remove  them  at  once  to 
a  place  of  safety  ? 

He  would  go  forthwith  to  the  consul,  tell 
him  the  real  object  of  his  visit  to  Paris,  enlist 
that  official's  services  in  the  search  for  his 
erring  son,  then  take  the  boys  out  of  Paris 
through  the  lines  of  the  Prussian  army,  and 
place  them  in  a  comfortable  house  in  some 
provincial  town  till  the  Commune  were  van- 
quished or  triumphant.  Yes,  yes  ;  to  the 
consul  that  very  afternoon. 

He  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  already 
a  quarter  of  four,  and  the  vice-consul  had 
told  him  that  the  consul  left  his  office  at 
three,  so  he  must  put  off  his  visit  till  morn- 
ing. But  he  would  not  lose  a  minute  then. 
No,  no. 

"Grandpa's    asleep,"    said    Frank,    "and 


BATTLE  AND  DISASTER.  87 

I  feel  as  if  my  eyes  had  sticks  in  'em.  Let's 
lie  down,  Will,  and  take  a  good  snooze." 

"  Oh,  Frankie,  what  was  that  ?"  cried  Will, 
clutching  his  brother's  hand  and  sidling  up  to 
him  as  if  demanding  protection. 

It  was  a  terrible  scream,  like  that  of  a 
woman  in  mortal  agony.  It  turned  Frank's 
young  blood  cold,  and  it  brought  Grandpa 
Drubal  to  his  feet  and  made  him  rub  his  eyes 
and  say,  in  a  bewildered  way  : 

*'  Injins,  Frank.  Where  are  they  ?  Nothing 
but  Injins  can  yell  like  that !  " 

He  opened  the  door  and  found  himself  face 
to  face  with  Citizeness  Marcelle,  whose  cheeks 
were  white  and  whose  whole  frame  trembled 
violently. 

"Ah,  citizen!"  she  cried,  raising  her 
clenched  hand  and  shaking  it  at  the  skies, 
"we  are  betrayed  !  The  Communist  army  is 
all  cut  to  pieces!" 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Frank?"  said 
Grandpa  Drubal. 

"  To  pieces  !  "  shrieked  Marcelle,  growing 
livid.  "It  was  on  the  plateau  of  Chatillon 
that  they  met  the  regulars,  and  there  they  let 


88  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

themselves  be  beaten !  Oh,  the  dogs  !  the 
monsters  !  To  lower  our  beautiful  banner  and 
to  run  !  The  survivors  ran  all  the  way  into 
Paris,  the  canaille  !  Oh,  they  shall  go  to  the 
guillotine !  I  will  look  to  it  myself !  And 
Bergeret,  the  general,  fled  in  a  carriage  !  Oh, 
the  shame  of  it !  But  the  cowards  shall  go 
to  the  guillotine !  La  Belle  Louison  *  shall 
drink  their  blood,  citizen,  and  you  shall  come 
and  see  them  executed.  The  cowards,  the 
dogs,  the  canaille!" 

Grandpa  Drubal  listened  to  this  harangue 
without  moving  a  muscle. 

"If  you  get  so  stirred  up  by  your  first  bat- 
tle," said  he,  "  what  will  it  be  when  you  get  to 
your  sixth,  your  tenth,  and  your  twentieth." 

"Oh,  my  husband!  He  will  be  killed! 
Perhaps  he  is  already  dead  !  "  cried  Marcelle. 
' '  I  must  run  into  the  Place  Vendome  and 
inquire  if  anything  has  been  heard  about  the 
wounded." 

And  turning  from  the  old  man  she  ran 
swiftly  to  the  stairway  and  vanished  down  it 
like  a  ghost. 

*  The  guillotine. 


BATTLE  AND  DISASTER.  89 

Grandpa  Drubal  rubbed  his  eyes,  as  if  he 
feared  that  he  were  dreaming.  But  there  was 
no  doubt  of  the  reality.  Frank,  who  had 
stolen  to  a  window  commanding  a  view  of  the 
Rue  de  Castiglione,  cried  out  that  the  street 
was  filled  with  men  and  women  who  acted  as 
if  they  had  gone  distracted. 

They  rushed  to  and  fro,  wringing  their 
hands,  shouting,  snarling  at  each  other,  and 
crying:  "  Trdliis !  TraTiis !  We  are  be- 
trayed ! " 

Then  came  a  column  of  Communist  troops 
and  drove  them  away.  But  the  screaming 
and  shouting  was  renewed  in  the  side  streets, 
and  was  kept  up  until  long  after  the  April  sun 
had  cast  its  pale  glories  over  the  ancient 
roofs  of  the  picturesque  houses  in  the  Place 
Vendome,  and  had  given  to  the  carven  face  on 
the  wall,  which  had  so  fascinated  little  Will, 
an  expression  of  sinister  rejoicing. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  ADVENT  OF   SNY. 

THE  pleasantest  hour  of  the  day  to  Frank, 
during  this  exciting  period,  was  the  still 
time  just  after  the  early  dawn,  when  the 
sleepy  twittering  of  the  birds  was  faintly 
heard  on  the  house-tops,  and  the  mellow  sun- 
shine of  April  came  glinting  in  through  the 
long  windows,  making  a  little  aureole  around 
the  innocent  head  of  little  Will,  lighting  up  the 
grave  face  of  Grandpa  Drubal  as  he  lay  asleep, 
and  inspiring  Frank  with  sudden  energy. 

It  was  all  so  delightful  and  romantic,  so 
like  and  yet  so  unlike  the  things  of  which 
he  had  dreamed  when  he  was  a  smaller  boy  ; 
so  strange  to  think  of  being  in  the  midst  of 
this  great  fight— that  it  set  his  young  heart 
to  throbbing  with  a  host  of  vaguely  defined 
emotions. 

Once  he  thought  he  would  run  away  and 
enlist  in  the  columns  of  one  or  the  other  of  the 

90 


THE  ADVENT  OF  SNY.  91 

contending  armies,  becoming  a  boy-soldier  and 
slaughtering  innumerable  enemies,  and  per- 
haps outdoing  Bonaparte  by  being  a  general 
at  sixteen.  Then  his  sober  common  sense  told 
him  that  this  was  but  an  idle  fancy.  Yet  no 
sooner  had  he  dismissed  one  idea  than  another 
came,  and  so  he  passed  many  delicious  morn- 
ing hours  before  Marcelle  knocked  at  the  fold- 
ing doors  of  the  bed-chamber,  and  brought  in 
the  silver  platter  with  the  great  bowls  of 
chocolate  and  the  savory  rolls  of  bread  lying 
beside  them. 

One  morning  Grandpa  Drubal  slept  longer 
and  heavier  than  usual,  and  Frank,  unable 
to  restrain  his  impatience,  jumped  up  and 
huddled  on  his  clothes,  drank  the  choco- 
late which  was  waiting  for  him,  popped  the 
roll  into  his  pocket,  and  knowing  full  well 
that  he  was  doing  something  for  which 
Grandpa  Drubal  would  reproach  him,  ran 
down  the  long  flights  of  stairs  to  the  street. 

Paris  could  not  have  been  more  quiet  at 
that  particular  hour  had  there  been  no  insur- 
rection. The  Place  Vendome  was  almost 
deserted.  The  only  sign  of  war  was  the 


92  UNDER  THE   BED   FLAG. 

slouching  sentinel  who  stood  just  inside  the 
porte-cochere  of  one  of  the  great  mansions, 
leaning  dejectedly  on  his  gun  and  smoking  his 
pipe.  The  sunshine  flooded  the  wide  streets. 
A  little  flower  girl  in  a  clean  blue  apron  and 
a  white  cap  trundled  her  small  barrow  past 
Frank,  singing  gayly  as  she  went.  The  odor 
of  violets  stole  upon  the  air ;  a  company  of 
white-f  rocked  cooks  and  their  assistants  went 
by,  hastening  to  their  work  in  some  hotel 
or  mansion ;  here  and  there  a  cab  crawled 
slowly  along  the  smooth  pavement ;  and  in 
the  distance  Frank  could  hear  the  melodious 
cries  of  the  street  merchants  plying  their 
trade  in  contemptuous  forgetfulness  of  the 
revolution  and  its  dangers. 

"  Well,"  said  Frank,  taking  his  bread  out 
of  his  pocket  and  beginning  to  munch  it,  "I 
must  say  this  does  not  look  much  like  war." 

At  this  moment  a  shadow  fell  across  the 
sunshine  in  front  of  him,  and  he  looked  up. 
A  tall,  gaunt,  and  somewhat  ragged  youth  of 
fteen  or  sixteen  stood  near  him,  gazing 
•ather  hungrily  at  the  bread  which  Frank  was 
devouring  with  gusto.  The  face  of  this  youth 


THE  ADVENT  OF  SNY.  93 

was  like  many  that  Frank  was  familiar  with 
elsewhere,  and  he  felt,  the  moment  he  set 
eyes  upon  him,  a  singular  friendliness  toward 
its  owner.  Yet  he  could  not  have  told  how 
or  why.  The  youth  had  a  bold,  but  not  im- 
pertinent, gaze  ;  it  came  from  a  pair  of  ket 
gray  eyes,  which  looked  Frank  steadily  in  the 
face,  and  seemed  to  derive  amusement  from 
the  study  of  the  boy  at  his  improvised  meal. 

Yet  there  was  in  the  youth's  look,  despite 
his  whimsical  expression,  a  certain  nameless 
feeling  of  want  and  privation  which  touched 
Frank's  sympathetic  nature.  "If  I  try  my 
French  on  him,"  thought  Frank,  "he  will 
probably  run  away,  scared  half  to  death. 
Here  goes  in  English." 

And  all  at  once  he  broke  the  remainder  of 
the  bread  in  halves  and  held  one  of  them  to 
the  new-comer,  saying  pleasantly : 

"  Have  some  3  " 

To  his  surprise  the  youth  moved  toward 
him  with  remarkable  spryness,  saying,  as  he 
came  along,  in  a  tone  and  with  an  accent 
which  marked  him  as  from  some  Western 
State  : 


94  UNDEK  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"Seeing  as  it's  you,  don't  care  if  I  do. 
Aint  seen  such  a  piece  of  bread  as  that  in 
about  six  thousand  years,  now,  as  nigh  as  I 
can  recollect." 

And  extending  a  long,  lean  hand  he  took 
Frank's  offering,  and  began  to  gnaw  upon  it 
with  a  vigor  and  an  appetite  which  showed 
Frank  that  his  new  acquaintance  was  suffer- 
ing from  hunger. 

"Goodness!"  said  the  charitable  Frank, 
"why  didn't  you  tell  a  fellow  that  you  were 
an  American  ?  I  might  have  stood  staring  at 
you  for  a  week  before  I  should  have  dared  to 
say  anything  in  French.  Here,  you  take  the 
rest  of  this,  and  I  will  get  two  more  in  about 
half  a  minute.  Don't  you  stir  until  I  come 
back." 

The  youth  looked  steadily  at  him,  and  his 
lips  smiled.  But  the  gray  eyes  did  not  smile. 
They  kept  their  watchful  look,  as  if  they 
could  not  believe  in  any  good  fortune,  and 
were  bound  to  be  ready  to  escape  from  evil 
luck,  if  it  came  that  way. 

Frank  dashed  back  up  the  stairs,  through 
the  passageways,  and  cautiously  peeped  into 


THE  ADVENT  OF  SNY.  95 

the  bedroom.  The  two  sleepers  were  still 
oblivions  to  all  around  them.  Frank  quietly 
took  their  two  little  loaves  of  bread  from 
the  breakfast  tray,  poured  the  chocolate  from 
their  bowls  into  a  decanter  standing  on 
the  toilet  table,  at  imminent  risk  of  cracking 
the  thin  glass  with  the  hot  liquid  ;  then,  with 
his  booty,  he  slipped  down  the  stairs  as 
hastily  as  he  had  ascended  them. 

The  gray-eyed  youth  was  standing  just 
where  Frank  had  left  him.  The  bread  had 
disappeared.  When  Frank  rushed  up  to  him, 
holding  out  the  hot  chocolate  and  another 
little  loaf,  the  gaunt  youth's  gray  eyes  bright- 
ened a  little.  "  Hold  on  !  "  he  said.  "  Let's 
move  up  into  this  next  doorway.  Now,  if  this 
is  all  right,  I'm  ready  to  take  breakfast  with  you. 
But  I  don't  want  any  misunderstandings." 

He  said  this  in  such  a  formal,  restrained 
way  that  Frank  could  not  help  smiling,  at 
which  the  gray  eyes  grew  more  severe. 

"  Why,  this  is  all  right,"  said  Frank.  "  My 
folks  are  staying  in  the  hotel,  and  I  thought 
you  looked  as  if  you  needed  some  breakfast. 
Am  I  right?" 


96  UNDER  THE  BED   FLAG. 

"You  can  bet  you're  right!"  said  the 
youth.  "Breakfast !  Why,  I  haint  seen  such 
a  thing  for  a  month.  No,  nor  lunch  neither. 
No,  nor  many  dinners  to  speak  of.  Well, 
maybe  three  times  a  week  I  get  something 
like  a  square  meal.  That  isn't  bad  for  these 
times." 

Frank  gazed  at  his  new  acquaintance  open- 
mouthed,  wondering  what  he  would  say  next. 
At  last  he  ventured  to  inquire,  in  a  softened 
voice :  "How  did  you  get  into  such  a  scrape  ? 
Did  you  lose  your  folks,  or  what  ?  " 

"Well,  now,"  said  the  youth,  with  the 
same  deliberate  manner  which  had  so  amused 
Frank,  "you  must  not  ask  too  many  personal 
questions  at  once.  The  question  before  the 
House  now  is,  Do  you  and  me  breakfast  to- 
gether, or  do  we  not  2 " 

Frank  smiled  again.  "Well,  let's  say  we 
do,"  he  said.  "Nobody  seems  to  think  it 
strange  that  we  are  eating  on  the  street. 
Here,  take  a  pull  at  this  hot  chocolate  ;  get 
outside  that  loaf.  Then  we  can  talk." 

The  gray  eyes  flashed  keenly  upon  Frank. 

"  You'll  jine  in  good  earnest,  will  you  ? " 


THE  ADVENT  OF  SNY.  97 

"  Of  course.  You  take  what  you  want,  and 
I  will  take  the  rest.  Then,  if  you  would  like 
to  come  with  me  to  see  Grandpa  Drnbal,  I 
reckon  maybe  we  can  help  you  out  of  your 
trouble." 

"  Say,  now,"  said  the  youth,  "don't  go  off 
at  half-cock  that  way.  I  haven't  said  I  was  in 
any  trouble." 

The  thin  lips  shut  tightly  together.  For  a 
moment  it  looked  as  if  the  youth  was  about  to 
throw  down  the  decanter  and  the  bread  and 
run  away.  But  he  took  another  look  at  the 
provisions,  then  raised  the  decanter  to  his 
mouth  and  took  a  long  drink.  He  handed  it 
back  to  Frank,  and  extended  his  lean  hand. 

"  Shake  !  "  he  said.  "  You're  a  white  man. 
That's  the  best  thing  I've  tasted  since  the  be- 
ginning of  the  siege— the  old  siege,  I  mean." 

"  What,  when  the  Prussians  were  besieging 
Paris  1 ' '  said  Frank.  ' '  Were  you  here  then  ? " 

"  I  should  say  I  was.  I  started  my  lessons 
in  light  meals  then.  About  the  time  they 
commenced  to  eat  elephants,  and  pet  dogs,  and 
cab  horses,  and  old  cats,  and  other  things,  I 
beginned  to  find  out  that  the  human  stomach 

7 


98  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

don't  require  more  than  one  meal  a  day. 
Yes,  and  I've  practised  it  ever  since." 

The  thin  lips  closed  tightly  again,  as  if  their 
owner  suddenly  realized  that  he  had  said  too 
much.  Frank's  friendly  heart  was  deeply 
touched.  Here  was  a  misery  which  he  could 
realize  and  sympathize  with.  Here,  too,  was 
a  boy  (for  after  all  he  was  but  a  boy,  although 
taller  and  older  than  Frank)  with  whom  he 
could  talk  about  the  grand  events  going  on 
around  him ;  one  who,  perhaps,  might  be 
made  a  companion  and  a  helper  in  the 
boyish  escapades  which  he  could  not  help 
planning,  although  as  yet  he  had  attempted 
none  of  them.  While  the  youth  slowly,  yet 
with  a  relish  almost  painful  to  witness,  ate 
the  last  crumbs  of  the  bread,  Frank  said  : 

"  My  name  is  Corners  ;  what's  yours  ? " 

"  Sny,"  said  the  tall  youth,  without  looking 
up.  « '  What' s  your  first  name  ? ' ' 

"Frank." 

"Well,  that's  all  right ;  your  name's  Frank 
and  mine's  Sny.  That's  enough  to  work  on, 
aintit?" 

Frank  laughed  heartily.      "Do  you  mean 


THE  ADVENT  OF  SNY.  99 

that  Sny  is  your  only  name  ? "  he  said;  "  first 
or  last?" 

"  Fust  and  last,"  answered  the  tall  youth, 
with  a  gravity  which  put  an  end  to  further 
enquiry.  "Sny;  just  Sny,  and  nothing  but 
Sny  until  further  orders." 

Saying  which,  he  looked  Frank  squarely  in 
the  face  and  frowned  in  a  manner  which  indi- 
cated that  he  was  not  to  be  catechised  any 
farther,  at  least  on  matters  concerning  his 
own  personality.  Then  he  began,  in  a  ram- 
bling way,  to  tell  Frank  of  some  military 
manoauvres  taking  place  in  the  plain  which 
could  be  overlooked  from  Montmartre.  "I 
must  be  going  up  to  the  hill  pretty  soon," 
he  said  reflectively.  "  Maybe  you  would 
like  to  go  along.  But  then,  I  suppose,  you 
would  be  afraid  to  go  with  a  stranger." 

"  Why,  no,"  said  Frank,  with  a  little  flush 
of  pride.  "  I  don't  think  I  am  much  afraid  of 
anything.  But  I  should  not  like  to  go  without 
asking  Grandpa  Drubal's  permission.  I  don't 
think  it  would  be  fair  ;  do  you  1 " 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  said  Sny.  "I  never 
asked  nobody's  permission  to  do  no  thin'  yet." 


100  UNDER  TIIE  RED   FLAG. 

Here  the  gray  eyes  twinkled.  "Least  not 
since  I  can  remember.  But  there  is  a  mighty 
good  reason  for  that." 

Something  very  like  a  sigh  of  regret  came  to 
the  gaunt  youth's  lips. 

"  And  what  was  the  reason  ? "  said  Frank. 

"  Haint  had  nobody  to  ask." 

"My  goodness,  poor  fellow  !  Haven't  you 
had  your  father"— a  little  sob  came  into 
Frank's  throat  as  he  thought  of  his  own  lost 
father — "nor  your  mother  with  you,  way  out 
here,  so  far  from  home  ? " 

"Well,  now,"  said  Sny,  "we're  gittin'  per- 
sonal again.  I  reckon  we'd  better  postpone 
these  confidences,  as  they  say  at  the  theatre, 
until  we  get  a  little  more  used  to  each  other  ; 
at  least,"  he  added  timidly,  "if  you  care 
about  any  further  acquaintance.  I  can  do 
lots  of  things,  you  know.  I  aint  no  sponge. 
Maybe  you  wouldn't  like  to  have  me  show 
you  that  fight  we  was  talking  about  a  few 
minutes  ago." 

Frank  hastened  to  declare  he  should  like 
nothing  better  on  earth.  "  Why,  it  would  be 
glorious  fun,"  he  said.  "  Having  a  person  to 


THE  ADVENT  OF  SNY.  101 

talk  to  would  be  half  the  good  of  it.  Grandpa 
is  too  solemn,  or  else  he  gets  too  fierce,  and  I 
don't  enjoy  it  with  him.  If  he  says  I  can  go 
you  can  count  me  in." 

At  this  moment  a  Communist  soldier,  has- 
tening to  join  his  battalion,  with  his  gun  car- 
ried lightly  by  the  loop  over  his  shoulder  and 
his  hat  set  awry  on  his  black,  curly  head, 
caught  sight  of  Sny,  and  saluted  him  with 
half  a  dozen  curious  phrases  which  Frank  did 
not  understand,  but  which  seemed  to  be  very 
gracious.  Sny  replied  in  what  Frank  judged 
must  be  reasonably  good  French. 

"  You  know  some  of  these  men,  then  ? "  he 
said. 

"Lots  of  them,"  answered  Sny.  "I  used 
to  live  in  the  St.  Antoine  quarter.  That  man 
there  is  a  bronzeworker,  and  gets  big  wages 
in  times  of  peace.  Probably  he'll  get  a  hole 
through  him  now,  and  then  he  won't  want 
any  more  wages.  He's  a  fool,  I  tell  him,  but 
he  says  he  is  a  patriot." 

Frank  was  burning  with  impatience  to  learn 
how  Sny  had  found  his  way  to  the  great  capi- 
tal, and  had  become  so  familiar  us  he  seemed 


102         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

with  its  people ;  but  be  determined  to  be 
discreet.  Presently  Sny  entered  upon  a  ram- 
bling description  of  the  beauties  of  Mont- 
martre,  and  while  he  was  talking  Frank 
observed  him  closely. 

Sny  was  fully  a  head  and  shoulders  taller 
than  Frank,  and  his  head  seemed  older  than 
his  body.  There  was  a  delicate,  almost  re- 
fined, look  about  the  brow  and  the  eyes, 
while  the  nose,  the  lips,  and  the  chin  testified 
to  a  practical,  ingenious  nature.  Frank  had 
heard  much  about  vagabonds  and  adventurers 
since  he  had  come  to  Europe,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment he  had  been  suspicious  of  Sny  ;  but 
there  was  something  in  the  youth's  manner 
which  savored  thoroughly  of  honesty. 

Sny  was  dressed  in  a  long  brown  overcoat, 
which  must  have  seen  its  better  days  many 
years  before.  The  sleeves  were  too  short,  and 
the  great  hands  and  wrists,  which  were  ex- 
posed, were  as  brown  as  any  gypsy's.  He 
wore  a  pair  of  dark  blue  trousers,  one  leg 
of  which  looked  as  though  it  might  have  been 
torn  partly  off  by  some  angry  dog,  so  frayed 
and  tattered  was  it.  The  other  was  in  good 


THE  ADVENT   OF  SNY.  103 

repair,  and  came  down  frankly  to  meet  and 
cover  a  rather  worn  and  broken  slipper.  On 
what  Frank  learned  afterward  to  call  the  short 
pant-leg,  Sny  wore  a  coarse  shoe,  which  had 
several  gaping  wounds  in  toe  and  heel.  About 
his  thin  neck  an  old  cravat  was  loosely 
twisted.  A  coarse  flannel  shirt,  which  had 
lost  its  collar,  peeped  from  beneath  this  bit  of 
neck  finery. 

The  bulging  pockets  of  the  overcoat  at  once 
enlisted  Frank's  attention.  Sny  observed 
this,  and  while  he  was  talking  he  began  to 
fumble  first  in  one  pocket  and  then  in  an- 
other, and  finally  he  laid*  before  Frank  half  a 
dozen  samples  of  the  museum  within.  There 
was  a  huge  jack-knife,  with  a  rusty  blade  ; 
an  old  cook-book,  on  the  back  of  which  notes 
were  written  in  a  fine,  nervous  handwriting  ;  a 
horse-shoe,  a  few  nails,  ten  or  a  dozen  car- 
tridges, a  small  hammer,  a  tin  cup,  two  or 
three  newspapers,  and  a  piece  of  common  sole- 
leather. 

"I  laid  out,"  said  Sny,  as  if  communing 
with  himself,  "to  patch  my  footgear  this 
afternoon,  but  now  that  I  have  struck  up  with 


104         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

you,  I  guess  the  shoes  '11  have  to  wait.  It  will 
be  great  fun  seeing  that  light  from  the  top  of 
the  hill." 

"  Oh,  I'm  bound  to  go  !  "  said  Frank.  "  I 
am  going  to  ask  grandpa  as  soon  as  he  gets 
up,  and  you  must  come  and  see  him.  He 
would  not  let  me  go  with  anybody  that  he 
didn't " 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Sny,  with  an  air  of  disap- 
pointment, "if  you  are  going  to  have  the  old 
boy  size  me  up,  I  reckon  our  excursion's  off. 
He  never  would  let  you  go  with  a  fellow  in  my 
kind  of  toilet,  I  don't  reckon." 

"He  wouldn't  car^  anything  about  that," 
said  Frank,  "if  he  was  sure  that  you  knew 
how  to  get  out  of  a  scrape,  if  we  got  into  one. 
I  have  been  in  some  pretty  rough  places  in 
Kansas  and  Missouri." 

"That  so?"  said  Sny.  "Why,  my  folks 
belong  to  the  border ! "  Then  he  stopped  sud- 
denly, and  a  faint  blush  colored  his  lean 
cheeks,  as  if  he  felt  that  he  had  said  too 
much.  "  Leastwise,  my  family  lived  in  Ohier 
at  one  time,"  he  added.  "  And  when  I  was  a 
little  fellow,  I  went  down  to  Cincinnati  one 


THE  ADVENT  OF  8NY.  105 

flay  and  stayed  to  the  house  of  a  cousin,  I 
think  it  was,"  he  continued  hesitatingly. 
"  Fust  evening  I  was  there  I  went  out  and  sot 
on  the  front  steps  of  the  house,  and  there  was 
a  city  boy  came  along.  I  was  pretty  thin  in 
those  days,  and  when  he  seed  me  sitting  there 
he  sung  out :  *  Gaspipe  !  Come  and  see  the 
gaspipe  ! '  which  was  pretty  sassy,  I  call  it." 

11  What  did  you  do  ? "  said  Frank. 

"Well,  I  clumb  down  from  the  steps,  and 
I  took  out  after  this  city  chap  and  he  run 
around  the  corner,  and  kept  singing,  '  Gassy, 
gassy,  gas-pipe,'  and  pretty  soon  I  caught 
him,  and  I  tied  him  full  of  bow-knots.  He 
never  said  nothin'  more  to  me  while  I  was  in 
Cincinnati,  though  his  paw  'lowed  he  was 
going  to  have  a  law-suit  with  my — cousin 
about  it." 

Frank  laughed  heartily  at  this,  but  Sny 
looked  straight  ahead  of  him  as  if  lost  in 
remembrance  of  those  early  days. 

They  talked  so  rapidly  and  so  merrily  that 
they  were  completely  lost  to  surroundings, 
and  Frank  started  to  his  feet  and  felt  very 
shaky  all  over  when  he  suddenly  saw  tower- 


106         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

ing  before  him  the  huge  form  of  Grandpa 
Drubal. 

"Great  Scott,  Frank!  what  have  you  got 
here  1 "  said  the  old  man,  in  his  most  cheerful 
tones.  "  Kegular  picnic,  right  on  the  pave- 
ment, too.  Well,  this  beats  the  Dutch !  If 
I  aint  mistaken,  that's  my  breakfast  you  have 
got  there,  my  boy.  But  it  don't  matter. 
Marcelly  gave  me  and  Will  another  just  as 
good — and — where  did  you  find  your  friend, 
Frank?" 

While  Frank  was  stammering  an  explana- 
tion, which  was  difficult  because  of  his  desire 
not  to  wound  the  pride  of  his  new  acquain- 
tance, Sny  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height, 
and,  unconsciously  hiding  the  wounded  shoe 
with  the  passable  slipper,  and  drawing  up  his 
wrists  as  far  as  possible  into  the  sleeves  of  his 
faded  overcoat,  he  assumed  an  air  of  lofty 
indifference  to  the  conversation. 

But  Grandpa  Drubal' s  keen  eyes  could  not 
be  deceived.  He  understood  the  situation 
fairly  well.  "Found  him  here,  Frank,  and 
thought  he  wanted  something  a  little  hot  to 
drink,  did  you  ?  Well,  come  right  in  here. 


THE   ADVENT  OF  SNY.  107 

young  fellow,  and  sample  our  other  breakfast 
a  little  later  on.  You  look  as  if  some  fodder 
wouldn't  kill  you.  Been  striking  it  rather 
rough,  lately?" 

The  hearty  good-humor  and  blunt  speech  of 
Grandpa  Drubal  seemed  to  touch  the  right 
chord  in  Sny's  peculiar  nature.  He  lost  a 
little  of  his  haughtiness  and  answered 
pleasantly : 

"  Well,  it  aint  been  quite  so  fat  as  I  have 
seen  it.  Times  are  a  little  mixed  here,  and 
I  get  sort  of  mixed,  too,  but  I  guess  I  shall 
pull  out  all  right." 

"Oh,  I  am  sure  you  will,"  said  Grandpa 
Drubal.  "  Americans  always  come  right  side 
up,  if  they  behave  right.  You  look  like  the 
good  sort.  Come  in  and  tell  us  about  your 
adventures,  and  perhaps  we  can  tell  yoii 
something  of  ours,  and  get  you  something  to 
do  if  the  folks  don't  get  to  shooting  too 
fast." 

"  Nothin'  to  tell,  as  I  know  of,"  said  Sny. 
"I am  here  alone,  and  picked  up  a  good  living 
— odd  jobs,  you  know — until  they  got  to  fight- 
ing, and  then  the  bottom  sort  of  dropped  out 


108        UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

of  everything.  If  I  could  be  of  any  use  to 
you,  I  would  like  it  first-class." 

Delighted  at  the  turn  the  conversation  was 
taking,  Frank  stole  into  the  hotel  and  laid 
away  the  remnants  of  the  breakfast;  then 
returned  to  find  his  grandfather  already  pat- 
ting Sny  on  the  back,  and  offering  to  engage 
him  "  for  odd  jobs,  you  know ;  just  showing 
us  the  way,  and  so  on." 

The  result  was  that  by  noon  Sny  was  some- 
what more  comfortably  dressed.  His  broken 
foot-gear  had  disappeared,  and  had  been 
replaced  by  a  pair  of  shoes  which  Grandpa 
Drubal  produced  from  his  trunk,  and  which 
fitted  the  capacious  feet  as  if  they  had  been 
made  for  them.  In  his  new  equipment  he 
looked  highly  presentable,  and  when  he  once 
more  mentioned  the  subject  of  the  fight  which 
he  wished  to  witness,  and  the  excursion  to 
Montmartre,  Grandpa  Drubal  accepted,  and 
even  agreed  to  take  Will,  as  Sny  assured  him 
that  there  was  not  the  smallest  danger. 

The  afternoon  was  cloudless  and  glorious, 
and  the  long  rows  of  grayish-white  buildings 
were  resplendent  under  the  April  sun.  At 


THE  ADVENT   OF  SNY.  109 

two  o'clock  the  little  company  climbed  the 
long  and  now  silent  Rue  Blanche  in  a  rickety 
cab,  drawn  by  two  half-starved  horses.  Sny 
and  Frank  sat  on  the  front  seat  chattering 
like  magpies  with  the  driver,  who  seemed  to 
understand  what  they  both  said,  although 
Frank's  French  was  but  limited.  In  the  car- 
riage Grandpa  Drubal  reposed  majestically  on 
the  seat,  with  Will  sitting  gravely  beside 
him.  Up,  and  up,  and  up  they  went.  The 
air  was  purer.  The  houses  were  less  thickly 
set  together.  Here  and  there  through  the 
open  gates  leading  into  some  courtyard  they 
caught  glimpses  of  grass-grown  enclosures, 
where  a  few  scared-looking  servants  were 
lolling  lazily  with  their  pipes.  All  the  dis- 
trict had  a  desolate  air.  Now  and  then  a 
woman's  face  peeped  out  at  them  from  a 
balcony  or  around  a  corner,  then  was  with- 
drawn hastily.  They  crossed  the  great  "ex- 
terior boulevards"  and  climbed  along  the 
crooked  Rue  Lepic ;  then,  turning  abruptly 
to  the  right,  they  found  themselves  directly 
at  the  base  of  a  frowning  hill,  crowned  with  a 
vast  windmill. 


110         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

"Not  far  from  my  house  now,"  said  Sny 
cheerily.  "  We'd  better  leave  the  carriage 
here  and  walk  the  rest  of  the  way." 

Little  Will  was  in  ecstacies  at  the  spectacle 
of  the  windmill.  He  asked  no  less  than  thirty 
questions  concerning  it  as  they  climbed  the 
steep  roadway,  turned  back  to  the  right  again 
and,  passing  through  a  rustic  gateway,  came 
out  upon  the  great  grassy  plateau  which  over- 
looked the  plains  to  the  northeast  of  the  city. 
As  they  passed  beneath  the  long  arms  of  the 
windmill  there  was  a  dull  boom  heard  in  the 
direction  of  Fort  Issy. 

"  They're  at  it !  They're  at  it !  "  cried  Sny 
excitedly.  "Now,  we'll  take  a  look  right 
from  this  point;  then  we'll  go  down  and  see 
my  house." 

Searching  in  one  of  his  pockets  he  brought 
forth  a  battered  field-glass,  and  offered  it  with 
much  dignity  to  Grandpa  Drubal.  "Try  this, 
sir,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ON  MONTMARTRE. 

WHILE  the  old  gentleman  was  availing 
himself  of  Sny's  glass  to  get  some 
idea  of  the  military  movements  which,  with 
the  naked  eye,  he  could  but  dimly  discern 
afar  off,  the  boys  dropped  down  upon  the 
grass  and  fell  into  a  whispered  conversation. 
Little  Will  took  the  lead  with  questions  which 
fell  upon  Sny  as  fast  as  the  bombs  were  fall- 
ing on  the  Communists  from  the  batteries  of 
the  government  troops. 

Sny  stood  the  bombardment  well,  and  gave 
such  lucid  and  interesting  answers,  couched 
in  the  right  kind  of  boy-talk,  that  Will's 
heart  warmed  to  him,  and  he  at  once  began  to 
call  him  "  Sny."  A  faint  flush  came  into  the 
lean  youth's  cheek  as  he  heard  his  name 
called  by  the  sweet-voiced  child.  The  gray 
eyes  opened  wider  and  wider,  and  something 

like  the  real  look  of  boyhood  stole  into  the 
in 


112         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

face  which  a  few  hours  before  had  been  stern 
and  almost  forbidding  in  its  expression. 

"  Grandpa  is  great  on  military  movements," 
said  Frank,  with  an  air  of  importance.  * '  Out 
in  St.  Louis  everybody  calls  him  general." 

"No,  they  don't,  Frank,"  said  Will. 
"Sometimes  they  call  him  colonel." 

"Oh,  pshaw!  only  those  that  don't  know 
him,"  said  Frank,  with  a  deep  accent  of  scorn. 
"You  are  old  enough  to  know,  Will,  that  no 
man  as  big  and  tall  as  grandpa,  after  going 
through  as  many  things  as  he  has,  is  ever 
called  anything  less  'n  general.  I  reckon 
not!" 

"Everybody's  colonel  or  major  out  where 
I " 

Sny  stopped  short,  and  turned  his  face 
away.  Little  Will  pressed  him  with  ques- 
tions, but  Frank  was  too  discreet.  He  saw 
that  the  tall  youth  had  a  secret,  and  he  re- 
solved that  it  should  not  be  wrenched  from 
him  by  artifice. 

"Now,  Will,"  he  said,  "let  Sny  alone. 
He's  awful  good  to  let  us  come  up  here  and 
see  this  splendid  hill,  and  all  the  men  fighting 


ON  MONTMARTRE.  113 

over  there,  and  you  don't  want  to  bother 
him." 

"Oh,  he  don't  bother  me,"  said  Sny.  "I 
would  like  to  sit  and  do  nothing  but  answer 
his  questions  all  day  long." 

Little  Will  turned  his  wondering  gaze  upon 
him,  as  if  unwilling  to  believe  that  such  sacri- 
fice was  possible  in  this  selfish  world. 

"Ho,  ho  !  "  laughed  Frank.  "You  would 
have  to  have  an  eight-hour  law  passed,  I 
reckon,  or  Will  would  work  you  to  death. 
He's  terrible  on  questions.  But  there  is  al- 
ways one  way  to  stop  him.  Don' t  answer  him 
until  he  has  asked  the  seventh  time.  Then  he 
will  get  mad  and  scream  his  question  at  you, 
and  then  he  will  subside.  Aint  that  so, 
Will!" 

"Say,  Frankie,"  said  Will,  "why  don't 
the  old  windmill  move  its  arms?  I  would 
like  to  move  around  on  them." 

"Oh,  grief!  he's  beginning  again,"  said 
Frank.  "Let's  run  away,  or  he'll  pester  us 
to  death." 

"No,  no,"  said  Sny,  falling  back  upon  his 
Ibow  in  the  grass  and  sniffing  the  perfume  of 

8 


114         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

a  wild  rose  blooming  close  beside  bis  tbin  face. 
"Let  tbe  little  fellow  alone;  I  like  to  bear 
him.  It  reminds  me —  Glory,  tbat  was  a 
big  puff  of  smoke!"  he  continued.  "Now, 
there  will  be  some  fun.  We'd  better  watch 
out." 

Grandpa  Drubal  was  deeply  interested,  and 
it  was  not  until  some  minutes  later  that  he 
turned  around,  apologetically,  saying:  "My 
boy,  I  quite  forgot  that  you  wanted  to  see 
something  of  this  thing  yourself,"  and  he 
handed  Sny  the  glass,  saying :  "  This  is 
very  fine.  Where  did  you  pick  it  up?" 

"I  got  it  out  on  the  line  of  the  retreat 
from  Clamart,  in  the  Prussian  siege,"  answered 
the  boy.  "  When  the  first  fighting  started 
there  was  truck  enough  thrown  away  to  fit 
out  a  curiosity  shop.  I've  got  some  of  it 
up  in  my  house,  if  you  would  like  to  see  it  by 
and  by,"  he  added  timidly. 

"Well,  I  should  like  nothing  better,"  ex- 
claimed Grandpa  Drubal.  "  This  is  great  fun 
up  here;  I  haven't  enjoyed  anything  more 
since  our  arrival.  Now  I  am  going  to  sit 
down  on  this  bank  here  and  smoke  a  cigar, 


ON   MONTH  ARTRE.  115 

and  you  young  folks  can  gambol  about  to  suit 
yourselves,  but  you  must  agree  not  to  go  off 
anywhere  without  giving  me  notice.  1  sup- 
pose we  are  not  trespassing  here,"  he  added, 
glancing  up  at  a  tall,  sallow  woman  who  was 
hovering  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  windmill, 
as  if  spying  out  their  movements. 

"Not  a  bit,"  said  Sny.  "You'll  be  less 
disturbed  here  than  anywhere  else  in  Paris  in 
these  times,  I  think.  The  old  woman  there 
runs  a  little  wine  shop,  just  back  of  the  wind- 
mill, and  sometimes  she  does  odd  jobs  for  me, 
when  I'm  able  to  pay  for  them.  She  brought 
me  bread  and  milk  every  morning  when  I  was 
sick  during  the  siege.  If  it  hadn't  been  for 
her  I  reckon  I  shouldn't  have  wanted  any 
more  bread  and  milk  for  the  next  two  or  three 
thousand  years." 

Grandpa  Drubal  looked  down  at  the  youth 
through  a  mist  which  had  quickly  gathered  in 
his  eyes.  The  thought  of  his  own  lost  son 
came  with  new  force  into  his  mind  as  he  re- 
flected on  the  misfortunes  and  misadventures 
which  this  poor  boy  had  probably  encoun- 
sred  alone  in  the  vast  capital,  almost,  if  not 


116         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

quite,  penniless.  Yet  he  had  found  friends, 
and  so  might  the  poor  wandering  Almon.  He 
would  wait  and  hope ;  but  the  waiting  and 
hoping  seemed,  somehow,  in  tin's  brilliant 
April  sunshine,  more  mocking,  more  bitter, 
than  ever  before. 

He  lighted  his  cigar,  stole  to  the  bank  and 
sat  down,  looking  out  over  the  long  lines  of 
mottled  gray  stone  houses  which  extended 
down  the  steep  slope  of  the  hill  and  fled  away 
across  the  dusty  plain  until  they  seemed  to 
sink  into  its  sandy  expanse.  He  had  been 
reading  that  morning  of  this  very  hill — of 
the  legend  which  tells  how  St.  Denis  met 
his  martyrdom  there,  and  after  having  lost 
his  head  took  it  under  his  arm  and  marched 
merrily  off  to  the  spot  where  now  stands  the 
mighty  cathedral  consecrated  to  his  memory, 
in  which  once  reposed  through  long  cen- 
turies the  unbroken  line  of  French  sovereigns. 

He  reflected  how,  when  the  great  Revolution 
came,  this  church  was  rudely  invaded  by  the 
hungry  and  vindictive  mob,  which  tore  from 
their  sacred  coffins  the  once  revered  forms  of 
their  monarchs  and  cast  them  forth  into  the 


ON  MONTMARTRE.  117 

streets.  A  shadow  seemed  to  fall  npon  him 
from  this  romantic,  yet  cruel,  past,  so  full  of 
strange  legends,  and  startling  tragedies,  and 
horrible  cruelties,  perpetrated  by  the  strong 
upon  the  weak  and  defenceless.  But  medi- 
tate as  he  might  upon  the  past,  rove  as  his 
gaze  might  over  the  hills,  up  to  the  great  Fort 
Valerien,  with  its  symmetrical  masses  of  wall, 
crowning  the  slopes  on  which  spring-time  was 
painting  delicatest  green,  he  could  not  banish 
from  his  mind  the  image  of  his  son,  alone  in 
this  great  whirlpool  of  humanity,  perhaps 
driven  into  temptation  which  he  could  not 
resist,  possibly  starving ;  yes,  even  dead ! 
No,  no ;  he  would  not  think  that. 

His  cigar  had  gone  out,  but  he  resolutely 
lighted  it  afresh  and  puffed  away,  and,  look- 
ing around  to  see  that  he  was  not  observed  by 
the  boys,  he  dried  the  eyes  which  were  filled 
with  tears. 

Meantime  the  boys  roved  delightfully  from 
one  place  to  the  other  on  the  great  plateau. 
While  Sny  showed  them  the  spot  where  sev- 
eral hundred  cannon  had  been  placed  for  safe 
keeping,  he  told  them  the  cruel  story  of  the 


118         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

murder  of  two  generals  by  the  excited  Com- 
munists at  the  beginning  of  the  insurrection, 
and  then  pointed  out  to  them  the  different 
forts  which  could  be  distinguished  from  their 
standpoint.  Then  they  went  through  a  little 
gate,  which,  when  it  was  opened,  set  a  melo- 
dious bell  to  tinkling,  and  soon  brought  to 
them  the  tall,  sallow  woman,  who  was  very 
good-natured.  Taking  a  rusty  key  from  her 
girdle,  she  led  them  up  a  long  flight  of  steps, 
through  the  interior  of  the  old  windmill,  and 
finally  to  its  top,  where,  from  a  platform  with 
rickety  railings  around  it,  and  sheltered  from 
the  sun  by  a  huge  red  umbrella,  which  might 
reasonably  enough  have  been  taken  for  the 
symbol  of  the  Commune,  they  gazed  out  over 
the  fair  domain  of  Queen  Paris,  and  saw  the 
miles  on  miles  of  vast  mansions,  with  the 
churches  rising  majestically  like  mountains  in 
the  architectural  plain  here  and  there.  They 
noted  the  domes,  the  spires,  the  walls,  the 
tremendous  lines  of  broad  streets,  with  the 
green  trees  everywhere  shading  the  sidewalks, 
and  the  marching  battalions,  the  sound  of 
whose  bugles,  when  the  wind  was  in  the  right 


ON  MONTMARTRE.  119 

direction,  drifted  up  to  their  ears.  With  the 
aid  of  Sny's  glass  Frank  could  see  the  foun- 
tains playing  in  the  squares,  and  watch  the 
glitter  of  the  sunshine  on  the  great  jets  of 
spray,  which  sprung  up  to  a  lofty  height  and 
fell  back  in  a  shower  of  diamonds  and  pearls 
into  the  bronze  and  marble  basins. 

"  Say,  Frankie,"  said  little  Will,  "  this  is  a 
bigger  place  than  St.  Louis,  isn't  it  ?  And  this 
is  just  like  being  on  the  top  of  the  Four 
Courts,  isn't  it,  Frankie  ?  " 

"Now,  Will,"  said  the  elder  brother  con- 
descendingly, "don't  be  foolish.  If  you  are 
tired,  you  can  sit  down  under  this  umbrella 
here." 

"Oh,  I  see  grandpa;  and  the  woman  has 
gone  to  bring  him  up  here,  too  !  "  cried  Will, 
And,  lifting  up  his  young  voice,  he  shouted 
to  the  old  gentleman,  who  was  majestically 
endeavoring  to  explain  to  the  woman  that 
he  spoke  no  French.  But  finally,  when  she 
pointed  frantically  to  the  top  of  the  wind- 
mill, he  concluded  there  had  been  some  acci- 
dent, and  hastened  after  her. 

By  the  time  he  had  reached  the  top  of  the 


120         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

long  and  somewhat  rickety  staircase  Grandpa 
Drubal  was  a  "  little  blown,"  and  he  was  glad 
to  sink  down  on  a  rustic  seat  when  he  found 
the  boys  all  safe  and  sound,  and  to  rest  for 
some  minutes  before  he  could  recover  his 
breath  to  give  them  the  scolding  which  they 
merited  for  stealing  away  without  permission. 

"If  you  look  in  this  direction,"  said  Sny, 
with  the  dignified  air  of  a  millionnaire  show- 
ing his  country  seat  to  a  visitor,  "  you  can  get 
a  good  view  of  my  house." 

"Your  house!"  said  the  old  man,  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  eyes.  "You  didn't  tell 
me,  Sny,  that  you  owned  any  property  up 
here." 

"  Well,  not  exactly  that,"  said  Sny,  a  faint 
flush  coming  into  his  thin  cheek.  "  If  steam- 
boats was  for  sale  for  a  dollar  a  cord,  I  don't 
suppose  I  could  buy  a  gangplank  now.  But 
what  I  mean  is,  the  house  I  live  in,  to  be  more 
exact.  It  seems  quite  like  home  now,"  he 
added,  with  a  touch  of  sentiment  in  his  voice, 
"  I  have  got  so  used  to  it.  Yonder  it  is,  just 
where  you  see  that  angle  and  those  stairs 
climbing  down  the  hill." 


ON  MONTMARTRE.  121 

They  all  looked  eagerly  in  the  direction 
toward  which  Sny  pointed. 

Two  or  three  hundred  feet  down  the  steep 
hill,  and  below  the  winding  course  of  the  Rue 
Lepic,  there  was  a  little  plateau,  in  and  around 
which  grew  a  few  scraggy  trees,  twisted  and 
turned  by  the  winds  which,  in  the  winter, 
howl  and  shriek  over  the  lofty  height.  To 
this  plateau,  from  the  steeps  above,  led  down 
the  flight  of  stairs  which  Sny  had  indicated, 
an  old  twisting  and  turning  flight  which  must 
have  been  there  for  centuries,  with  a  broad 
stone  balustrade,  and  with  easy  steps  wide 
enough  for  a  giant's  feet. 

The  old  house  to  which  Sny  alluded  stood 
on  the  very  edge  of  this  tableland,  so  that  its 
grayish-white  wall  was  built  upon  the  summit 
and  side  of  a  precipice. 

No  more  picturesque  outlook  over  Paris 
could  be  imagined.  As  Grandpa  Drubal  ex- 
pressed, it,  it  was  the  very  place  for  an  artist 
to  cage  himself. 

"Oh,  there  was  artists  there  before  the 
siege,"  said  Sny.  Looking  up  roguishly,  he 
said:  "If  it  hadn't  been  for  an  artist,  I 


122  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

reckon  I  never  should  have  had  my  domicile 
there." 

"  How  is  that  ? "  said  Grandpa  Drubal. 

"Well,"  said  Sny,  "  I  used  to  do  odd  jobs 
for  a  Belgian  painter  that  had  this  place 
where  I  live,  looking  right  out  over  the  space 
there,  taking  in  all  Paris  in  a  kind  of  pano- 
rama. When  the  siege  came  along,  he 
wanted  somebody  to  look  after  the  place 
while  he  was  gone,  so  he  invited  me  to  come 
and  stay  there,  and  he  paid  the  rent  for  six 
months  in  advance,  so  as  to  keep  the  place, 
and  he  promised  to  send  a  little  money  every 
few  weeks  to  keep  the  mill  going.  He  did 
send,  and  I  was  all  right  until  by  and  by  his 
letters  stopped.  I  can't  understand  why. 
And  I  would  have  stopped,  too,  I  reckon, 
if  neighbors  hadn't  been  sort  of  obliging." 

A  lump  seemed  to  come  into  Sny's  throat. 
Evidently  he  was  recalling  a  painful  period. 
Grandpa  Drubal' s  kind  heart  was  touched. 

"What!  Just  left  you  there  to  shift  for 
yourself,  hey?  Well,  that  was  powerful 
wrong." 

"Well,  we  can't  blame  him,  I  suppose," 


ON  MONTMARTRE.  123 

said  Sny  slowly.  "He  had  done  a  great  deal 
for  ine,  as  it  was,  you  see,  letting  me  have  the 
place  to  stay  in. 

"I  was  thinking,"  he  added  slowly,  "that 
if  yon  and  the  boys  would  like  to  stay  and 
take  dinner  with  me  in  my  house,  since  I  took 
breakfast  with  you  this  morning,  I  should 
kind  of  like  it." 

Grandpa  Drubal,  as  he  himself  expressed  it 
later,  was  "immensely  tickled"  at  this  invi- 
tation. The  breadth  and  scope  of  this  bold- 
ness fairly  took  his  breath  away.  This  poor 
waif,  afloat  without  oar  or  rudder  upon  the 
wide  sea  of  misery;  this  tramper  in  the  street, 
who  had  been  almost  faint  with  hunger  a  few 
hours  before,  had  now  so  rallied  under  the 
genial  influence  of  a  little  kindness,  that 
his  self-respect  had  fully  re-blossomed,  and 
he  was  anxious  to  repay  all  his  obligations, 
even  if  he  could  do  so  only  in  the  crudest 
manner. 

"Well,"  answered  the  old  gentleman. 
"  We  'lowed  to  dine  at  the  hotel,  and  reck- 
oned on  taking  you  down  ther^  with  us.  But 
it  is  so  nice  up  here  that  I  for  one  would  like 


124  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

to  go  down  and  see  your  place,  and  maybe 
take  a  cup  of  tea  with  you." 

Sny  straightened  up  at  this  acceptance  of 
his  invitation,  and  seemed  momentarily  to 
grow  taller.  He  jingled  in  his  pocket  the  few 
coins  which  Grandpa  Drubal  had  paid  him 
"in  advance,"  as  he  said,  "for  the  little  ser- 
vices which  you  may  render  us."  He  was 
inwardly  calculating,  as  the  old  man  finished 
his  remarks,  what  he  should  get  for  the 
repast  to  which  he  had  invited  his  new 
friends. 

"Oh,  yes!"  said  little  Will.  "Let's  go 
down  to  Sny's  house.  I  want  to  see  him  cook 
on  one  of  those  little  charcoal  things,  like 
Marcelle  does.  He  says  he  has  one  up  in 
his  house,  didn't  you,  Sny?" 

' '  Well,  that's  first-rate,"  said  Sny.  "  Now, 
boys,  come  on.  The  driver  can  whisk  your 
grandpa  around  to  my  house  in  no  time  and 
we  can  go  by  the  stone  stairs.  Then  we  can  sit 
and  look  at  the  scenery  and  some  of  my 
curiosities  "—here  again  he  seemed  to  grow 
taller— "until  it  is  time  to  have  some  dinner ; 
then  I  will  just  whirl  in  and  cook  it." 


ON  MONTMARTRE.  125 

Grandpa  DrubaPs  eyes  twinkled  again.  "I 
used  to  be  a  right  smart  band  at  cooking  my- 
self," he  said.  "  I  reckon  I  can  throw  up  a 
beefsteak  or  turn  over  an  omelet  with  the  best 
of  them,  and  as  for  coffee— why,  I  used  to  be 
great  on  that.  When  we  were  out  after  the 
bushwhackers  in  Missouri,  in  '62,  the  men 
with  me  said  that  the  coffee  I  made  was  the 
only  thing  that  kept  them  alive." 

Sny  listened  respectfully.  "Well,"  he 
said,  "  I  wasn't  much  of  a  cook  when  I  landed 
in  these  parts,  but  I  have  learned  a  good 
many  things  since  then.  If  you  will  excuse 
me  a  minute  I  will  just  do  an  errand  or 
two,  and  then  we'll  slip  around  to  the 
house." 

The  carriage  went  ahead  with  Grandpa 
Drubal,  down  the  long  stairs  the  boys  raced 
delightedly,  and  Sny,  placing  a  couple  of 
silver  pieces  in  the  hand  of  the  lean,  sallow 
•woman,  spoke  to  her  for  a  few  moments  in 
French.  She  replied  with  several  of  those 
gestures  of  the  head  which  all  French  women 
of  the  people  know  how  to  make,  smiled 
pleasantly  at  him,  and  when  Sny  finally 


126         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

handed  her  a  five-franc  piece  left  by  Grandpa 
Drubal  as  the  reward  for  her  attention  she 
dropped  a  courtesy  which  would  have  done 
credit  to  a  lady  of  Versailles  in  the  days  of 
the  Great  Monarch. 

When  they  reached  the  gray  old  pile  of 
stone  which  Sny  so  proudly  called  his  house, 
and  the  coachman  had  been  paid  and  dis- 
missed, Grandpa  Drubal  was  surprised  to  see 
that  it  had  apparently  no  occupants.  "  What, 
nobody  here?"  he  said,  with  just  a  little  flash, 
of  suspicion  in  his  mind.  The  square  seemed 
deserted.  There  was  no  one  on  the  benches 
under  the  melancholy  trees,  although  the 
whole  place  was  flooded  with  sunshine. 
"Surely  you  don't  live  all  alone  in  this 
place  ?  "  he  said. 

"No,"  answered  Sny;  "there  is  one  old 
woman  on  the  floor  above  me,  but  she  must  be 
nigh  eighty  years  old.  She  can't  hear  a  word, 
nor  see  very  well.  She  has  her  food  brought 
up  by  a  little  girl  once  a  day.  Besides  her, 
and  the  people  that  come  to  see  me  now  and 
then,  I  have  been  the  only  soul  in  the  house 
for  months." 


ON  MONTMARTRE.  127 

"  And  where  are  the  others?"  said  Frank, 
opening  his  eyes  wide  in  astonishment. 

"  Well,  some  of  them  are  in  the  Army  of 
the  Commune  ;  some  ran  away  when  the  Com- 
munists took  charge.  As  for  the  landlord,  I 
think  he  must  be  a  good  many  miles  from 
Paris.  It  is  not  a  very  good  time  for  land- 
lords to  collect  rents  just  now.  It  makes  it 
sort  of  convenient  for  me,  you  see." 

Grandpa  Drubal  was  just  a  bit  ashamed 
of  his  momentary  suspicion.  He  tramped 
cheerfully  up  the  long  flight  of  old  stairs  in 
the  wake  of  the  boys,  and  soon  they  stood 
together  in  the  centra  of  a  huge  room  which 
was  admirably  suited  for  an  artist's  studio, 
but  must  have  made  a  sorry  residence  for  the 
youth  during  the  sharp  weather  of  the  pre- 
ceding winter,  when  Paris  lay  wrapped  in  the 
misery  of  the  great  Prussian  siege. 

"Now,  just  make  yourselves  to  home," 
said  Sny,  bustling  around.  "You  will  find 
some  benches  and  old  chairs  there  by  the  small 
door.  It  opens  right  out  into  the  air.  You 
must  not  let  the  little  fellow  get  too  near ;  he 
might  fall  out.  Just  let  me  put  this  plank 


128         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

in  front  of  it  and  then  there  won't  be  any 
danger." 

Grandpa  Drubal  seated  himself  in  what  had 
once  been  a  rather  imposing  arm-chair,  but 
was  now  soiled  and  rickety;  lighted  a  fresh 
cigar,  and  divided  his  attention  between  the 
vast  panorama  of  the  city  below  and  the 
operations  of  Sny. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  BREAKFAST  WITH  SNY. 


"  "VTOW,  I'm  a  little  rusty  in  all  these 
-l-N  things,"  said  Sny,  "because,  having 
nothing  to  cook,  you  can't  practice  cook- 
ing, don't  you  see  ?  But  if  you  boys  will  help, 
I  reckon  we  can  shake  the  thing  together." 
And  he  turned  to  Frank  with  an  encouraging 
smile  which  seemed  to  say,  "You  are  indis- 
pensable." Frank  was  not  proof  against  this 
delicate  flattery,  and  he  enthusiastically  ac- 
cepted Sny's  invitation." 

"  What  shall  I  do  first  i"  he  said  gravely. 

Before  answering,  Sny  divested  himself  of 

the  long  dingy  overcoat,  and  stood  before  the 

boys    in    his  shirt  sleeves.     Frank  observed 

with  a  pained  surprise  that  Sny  had  no  under- 

coat, and  that  the  vest  which  he  wore  was 

very  thin-  looking,   as    if    it  had  been  made 

for    the  hottest  summer  weather.      But  the 

frayed  and  well-worn  shirt  was  clean,  and  as 

9  129 


130         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Sny  rolled  up  his  sleeves,  displaying  bis  im- 
mense length  of  wrists  and  his  lean  but 
muscular  arms,  Frank  felt  a  certain  admira- 
tion for  the  independence  of  character  which 
could  lead  Sny  to  forget  his  temporary 
poverty. 

"The  first  thing,"  remarked  Sny,  with  an 
air  of  command,  "  is  to  wash  up.  I  don't  say 
that  all  cooks  do  it.  In  fact,  I  have  known 
a  good  many  who  did  not.  But  perhaps  if 
they  had  done  their  cooking  in  the  presence 
of  an  audience,  as  I  am  about  to  do,  they 
would  have  been  more  particular." 

Grandpa  Drubal  chuckled  at  this  remark, 
and  said  to  himself  under  his  breath  :  "  There 
is  a  heap  of  good  stuff  in  that  boy.  Even 
his  impudence  has  a  kind  of  wholesome  ring 
to  it." 

Frank  understood,  and  was  already  bringing 
from  its  corner  the  tall  zinc  pitcher,  which  in 
Parisian  lodgings  replaces  the  sink  with  its 
faucets  of  hot  and  cold  water  so  general  in 
America.  Approaching  a  metal  bowl  sup- 
ported on  a  tripod  of  thin  iron  rods,  Sny 
extended  his  hands  and  said;  "Now  pour, 


A   BREAKFAST   WITH  SNY.  131 

please."  Frank  struggled  with  the  big 
pitcher,  and  poured  the  water  in  true  Oriental 
style.  Sny  came  out  fresh  and  dripping, 
after  deluging  his  hands  and  face,  and  while 
he  was  scrubbing  himself  with  the  towel,  he 
remarked  reflectively : 

"I'm  thinkin'  how  we  can  employ  this 
young  gentleman  here.  I  reckon  I'll  have  to 
let  him  take  a  turn  at  the  bellows." 

"Oh,  do!"  said  little  Will  delightedly, 
without  the  remotest  idea  what  he  was  to  do 
with  the  bellows.  "And  don't  let  Frankie 
stop  me.  He  always  interferes." 

At  this  moment  a  light  footstep  was  heard 
at  the  door,  and  the  pale,  sallow  woman 
came  in  with  her  arms  filled  with  bundles. 
Frank  and  Will  watched  her,  big-eyed,  while 
she  talked  volubly  to  Sny  and  opened  parcel 
after  parcel,  laying  the  contents  upon  a  white 
wooden  table  which  stood  near  a  small  but 
neat  kitchen  range  in  a  corner  of  the  studio. 

The  boys  were  beginning  to  feel  hungry, 
and  they  took  a  mental  inventory  of  the 
preparations  for  dinner  with  much  satisfac- 
tion. Out  of  one  deftly  constructed  package, 


132         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

the  exterior  of  which  was  white  and  clean 
enough  to  have  contained  loaf  sugar  or  wax 
candles,  came  a  half  peck  of  charcoal  which 
tinkled  as  it  was  tossed  into  a  small  basket  on 
the  range.  Next  were  displayed  some  tiny 
circles  of  wood  which  had  been  saturated  in 
mineral  oil.  These  were  the  kindlings.  The 
woman's  deft  hands  brought  out  a  head  of 
salad  from  a  third  paper,  a  minute  pat  of 
butter  from  a  fourth,  a  savory  and  creamy 
cheese  from  still  another,  a  large  bunch  of 
most  appetizing  radishes,  a  dozen  sizeable 
potatoes,  two  small  bottles  filled  with  oil  and 
vinegar,  half  a  dozen  eggs,  and  four  handsome 
mutton  cutlets,  from  still  other  packages. 
Then,  opening  a  little  pail,  she  poured  into 
a  bowl  some  magnificent  strawberries,  fresh 
from  the  south  of  France,  such  as  can  be 
found  in  early  February  in  the  great  central 
markets  of  the  French  capital.  Evidently 
the  Commune  had  not  yet  begun  to  starve. 
After  all  these  good  things  were  arrayed  on 
the  table,  Sny  winked  knowingly  at  Frank, 
and  said:  "I've  known  her  a  good  while, 
and  never  known  her  to  come  without  for- 


A   BREAKFAST   WITH  8TTT.  133 

getting  something.  I'll  bet  it's  the  coffee 
this  time." 

But  no !  From  the  depths  of  a  seemingly 
elastic  pocket  the  good  woman  produced  a 
package  containing  the  coffee,  yet  another 
filled  with  symmetrical  lumps  of  pure  white 
sugar,  freshly  broken  from  the  loaf,  and, 
finally,  half  a  dozen  spoons,  which  looked  as 
if  they  had  done  duty  for  a  full  generation. 

"I  know  what  she  has  forgotten!"  cried 
Frank.  "  She  has  not  brought  any  bread." 

"Most  likely,"  said  Sny.  "Oh,  but  she 
has  brought  it,  though  !  She  generally  sets  it 
on  end  out  in  the  passage  until  she  has 
unloaded  all  the  other  things." 

And  so  it  was.  A  moment  later  the  sallow- 
woman  went  out  into  the  passage,  and  re- 
turned with  her  apron  filled  with  the  long, 
crisp  loaves,  brittle  as  to  crust  and  as  white  as 
the  driven  snow  as  to  interior,  and  giving 
forth  an  odor  lit  to  send  a  hungry  company 
into  raptures. 

"  Bread,  by  the  yard  ! "  said  Frank.  "  Well, 
I  wouldn't  have  believed  it  possible  if  I  hadn't 
seen  it  so  many  times." 


134  UNDER  THE  BED   FLAG. 

"  Oh,  you  often  see  a  Frenchman  devour  a 
whole  yard  of  bread,"  said  Sny.  "Give  him 
that  and  a  little  salad,  and  some  wine  and 
water,  and  he  thinks  he  is  better  off  than  with 
the  roast  beef  of  Old  England,  or  New  Eng- 
land either,  I  reckon." 

The  sallow  woman  smiled  at  the  boys  and 
took  her  departure.  Sny  now  opened  a  creak- 
ing drawer  and  took  from  it  a  large  napkin, 
which,  with  a  piece  of  string,  he  tied  around 
his  waist  in  guise  of  an  apron. 

"Now,"  he  said,  with  a  comical  gesture  of 
one  of  his  lean  arms,  "if  any  of  them  old 
worthies  that  used  to  handle  the  saucepans  for 
the  kings  that  lived  at  Versailles  want  to  look 
down  and  see  a  first-class  job  in  cookery,  they 
are  welcome  to  do  so.  But  first  we  must  light 
the  fire.  Now,  Master  Will,  if  you  will  pick 
up  them  little  bellows  there,  and  just  go  right 
to  work  with  your  small  paws  to  agitate  them, 
you  will  see  how  the  operation  is  done." 

On  the  range,  over  which  was  the  wide  and 
draughty  mouth  of  the  chimney,  black  and 
yawning,  with  the  early  spring  breeze  sighing 
in  and  out  of  it,  stood  three  or  four  small 


A    BREAKFAST   WITH   SNY.  135 

grates,  four-footed,  and  each  capable  of  con- 
taining quite  a  quantity  of  charcoal.  Sny 
took  some  of  the  kindlings,  and  deftly  ar- 
ranged them  in  the  bottom  of  each  grate  ; 
then,  from  the  basket,  shook  down  upon  them 
little  heaps  of  charcoal,  which,  with  a  bit  of 
wood,  he  loosened  up  and  arranged  so  that 
the  least  draught  would  set  them  to  flaming. 
Next  he  applied  a  match  and  bits  of  paper, 
which  he  thrust  into  each  of  the  grates  among 
the  kindlings. 

"Now,  Master  Will,"  he  said,  "just  take 
the  bellows  and  let  them  breathe  gently  on 
these  grates,  until  the  charcoal  is  all  flaming 
up.  That  will  be  your  part  of  the  work,  and 
a  very  necessary  part  it  is,  too." 

"I  think  it  would  be  better  for  Frankie 
to  do  this,"  said  Will.  "He's  the  greatest 
blower  of  the  two." 

But  no  one  noticed  his  pun.  Sny  was 
very  busy  putting  water  into  small,  long- 
handled  saucepans,  was  pulling  the  leaves 
from  the  outside  of  the  head  of  salad, 
and  giving  Frank  a  number  of  orders.  So 
Will  took  the  bellows  and  did  his  best  to 


136         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

start  the  flame.  But,  try  as  he  would,  he 
could  make  no  impression,  save  in  the  first 
grate  to  put  out  the  growing  flame,  and  in  the 
second  to  create  a  great  volume  of  smoke, 
which  a  contrary  gust  from  the  chimney  blew 
into  his  eyes  and  made  the  tears  come.  Pres- 
ently Sny  looked  over  toward  him. 

"Oh,  not  that  way,  my  boy!"  he  said. 
"You  blow  too  hard.  Just  breathe,  as  I 
said." 

He  stepped  over,  and,  taking  the  bellows, 
with  half  a  dozen  deft  motions  of  his  hands 
he  had  the  flame  springing  up  in  each  of  the 
grates.  "  That  will  do,"  he  said.  "  Now  for 
some  hot  water,"  and  presently  a  small  sauce- 
pan, neatly  covered  and  half  filled  with  water, 
was  placed  on  one  of  the  little  fires. 

The  boys  were  so  interested  in  watching 
Sny's  operations  that  they  presently  forgot  to 
help  him.  He  took  no  note  of  their  negli- 
gence, but,  moving  swiftly  about,  had  each 
one  of  the  charcoal  fires  covered  with  some- 
thing in  process  of  cooking.  "There  you 
are,"  he  said  triumphantly,  after  he  had 
"grouped  the  dinner,"  as  he  expressed  it,  by 


A   BREAKFAST   WITH  SNY.  137 

which  he  meant  bringing  all  the  grates  up 
together  with  something  simmering  and  siz- 
zling over  each  of  them.  "  Now,"  he  said,  "if 
I  was  an  American  cook  I  should  think  I 
needed  two  hundred  pounds  of  coal  to  carry  on 
this  dinner  operation.  I  should  be  shovel- 
ling two  or  three  hods  full  into  a  big  roaring 
stove  or  range,  and  waste  about  ten  times  as 
much  as  the  dinner  ought  to  cost.  Here, 
you  see,  four  cents  worth  of  charcoal  does 
the  business." 

By  this  time  Grandpa  Drubal  was  watching 
the  culinary  operations  as  intently  as  either 
of  the  boys. 

But  Sny  seemed  so  preoccupied  with  his 
work  that  he  said  nothing  to  the  old  gentle- 
man. He  flew  about  noiselessly ;  now  wash- 
ing potatoes,  now  testing  the  eggs,  now  giving 
a  few  smart  blows  with  pieces  of  wood  to  each 
cutlet  to  lay  it  out  flat,  now  picking  the  salad 
over  and  over,  then  putting  it  into  a  little 
wire  cage,  pouring  water  through  it  and  swing- 
ing the  cage  over  his  head  time  after  time 
until  not  a  drop  of  water  flew  from  it. 

"  Salad,  you  see,"  he  said  to  the  boys,  "is 


138         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

no  good  unless  it  is  clean.  Most  people  don't 
know  how  to  clean  salad.  They  just  make  a 
try  at  it  and  that  ends  it.  Plenty  of  water 
will  bring  out  the  freshness  and  the  flavor." 
And  so  in  half  an  hour  a  little  table,  spread 
with  a  snowy  napkin,  and  placed  in  the  centre 
of  the  room,  was  loaded  with  all  the  essentials 
of  a  very  respectable  meal.  It  was  still  early 
in  the  afternoon,  but  the  boys,  although  ac- 
customed to  dining  at  six  o'clock,  felt  raven- 
ously hungry  after  their  outing  on  the  hill, 
and  even  Grandpa  Drubal  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  the  savory  omelet,  the  crisp 
bread,  and  the  radishes,  fresh  as  if  just  pulled 
in  the  garden.  When  they  were  ready  to  sit 
down  Sny  produced  from  a  mysterious  cup- 
board a  tall,  black  bottle  of  wine.  He  placed 
it  upon  the  table,  saying:  "The  gentleman 
that  left  this  studio  in  my  care  had  about  two 
hundred  bottles  of  wine  in  the  cellar.  He 
told  me  to  use  it  to  suit  myself.  It  was  lucky 
that  he  left  something,  or  I  should  have  given 
up  the  ghost  during  the  siege.  With  a  little 
sup  of  wine  and  a  piece  of  bread  I  used  to  get 
through  the  day  very  nicely." 


A   BREAKFAST  WITH  SNY.  139 

"  Well,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal,  "as  I  have 
not  done  anything  yet  to  help  I  reckon  I 
ought  to  pull  the  cork."  So,  producing  a 
cork-screw  from  his  pocket,  he  extracted  the 
cork  from  the  bottle,  and  poured  a  little  of 
the  wine  in  each  of  the  four  thin  and  fantastic- 
looking  glasses  on  the  table.  "Here  is  your 
good  health,  Mr.  Sny,  and  may  we  meet  many 
times  around  so  well  furnished  a  board." 

"Those  are  my  sentiments,"  said  Frank, 
looking  over  to  Grandpa  Drubal,  who,  by  a 
motion  of  his  head,  indicated  that  Frank 
might  drink  the  contents  of  his  glass.  "  Wine 
is  not  good  for  boys,"  he  said,  "  but  this  is  a 
special  occasion  and  we  won't  count  it." 

"Wine  and  water  is  best  for  little  boys," 
said  Sny,  diluting  the  wine  set  before 
Will  with  water  from  a  cracked  decanter. 
""That  is  what  they  call,  in  the  French 
schools,  '  abondanceS  I  guess  the  best  way 
to  translate  that  is  that  you  can  have  all  you 
want  of  it  because  it  don't  cost  much.  In  the 
schools  they  make  it  three  parts  water  and 
one  part  wine." 
.  That  was  a  merry  dinner.  Everything  was 


140  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

brought  off  the  fire  in  apple-pie  order  by  the 
ingenious  Sny,  who  never  was  entrapped  into 
letting  anything  burn,  but  seemed  to  have 
eyes  in  the  back  of  his  head,  so  that  he  could 
watch  the  dinner  and  at  the  same  time  look  at 
his  guests  and  tell  them  amusing  stories  and 
see  that  their  wants  were  satisfied.  The  cut- 
lets, followed  by  the  salad  and  the  cheese, 
were  despatched  with  gusto,  and  Grandpa 
Drubal  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and,  taking 
a  long  black  cigar  from  the  pocket  of  his 
flowered  waistcoat,  was  thinking  how  pleasant 
it  would  be  to  have  a  strong  cup  of  coffee, 
when  suddenly  the  aroma  of  that  delectable 
fluid  smote  full  upon  his  senses. 

"Ah  !  the  coffee  is  ready  now,"  cried  Sny, 
jumping  up.  "The  best  part  of  the  dinner, 
I  call  it."  And,  going  to  the  range,  he  took 
from  a  dark  corner,  where  it  had  been  hidden, 
a  large  metal  receptacle  crowned  with  an  oval 
globe  of  glass,  into  which  the  aromatic  liquid 
was  just  bubbling  up  from  the  recesses  below. 
"See,"  said  Sny,  pointing  to  it,  "when  the 
coffee  touches  that  little  niche  in  the  glass 
two-thirds  of  the  way  up,  then  I  shut  off  the 


A   BREAKFAST  WITH   SNY.  141 

spirit  lamp.  The  coffee  sinks  back  and  is  just 
ready  to  pour.  At  that  minute  it  is  fit  for 
gods  to  drink." 

"And  I  reckon,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal, 
"  that  anything  good  enougli  for  them  is  good 
enough  for  us."  And  he  lighted  his  cigar 
with  an  air  of  supreme  satisfaction,  as  Sny 
poured  from  the  queer-looking  coffee  pot  a 
delicious  cupful. 

"I  wonder  you  didn't  make  your  fortune, 
Sny,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal,  "just  cooking 
for  these  distracted  Communists.  From  what 
little  I  have  seen  of  them,  they  don't  seem  to 
have  anything  very  good  to  eat,  or  anybody 
that  knows  how  to  cook." 

"Oh,  there  are  plenty  of  cooks  in  the  ranks 
of  the  Commune,  for  that  matter,"  said  Sny. 
"Just  now  they  are  too  poor  to  practise 
their  art.  They  wouldn'  t  trust  any  stranger, 
for  they  think  that  nobody  can  cook  but 
themselves." 

"Say,  Sny,"  said  Will,  "how  did  you 
keep  warm  here  during  the  winter  ?  For  you 
said  it  was  terribly  cold  during  the  siege,  and 
if  you  only  had  these  charcoal  fires " 


142         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"Why,  I  didn't  keep  warm,"  said  Sny. 
"I  just  most  eternally  froze!  But  when  I 
was  all  ready  to  give  up  and  get  sent  to  a 
hospital  or  something,  then  there  would  come 
a  warm  day  and  cheat  me  into  the  belief  that 
I  was  all  right,  and  so  before  I  could  make  up 
my  mind  to  do  anything  decided  about  mov- 
ing, I  would  get  nipped  by  another  cold  spell. 
It  was  rather  Arctic,  I  can  tell  you  !  I  used  to 
go  to  bed  early  in  the  afternoon  when  it  was 
very  cold,  and,  so  as  to  be  in  harmony  with 
my  surroundings,  as  the  man  said,  I  would 
imagine  that  I  was  on  a  North  Pole  expedi- 
tion, and  sometimes  I  spent  hours  in  dreaming 
out  all  the  details — how  we  got  cast  away  on 
icebergs  and  chased  by  polar  bears.  Then 
I  would  get  hungry  and  dream  that  I  was  on 
an  ice-bound  shore  with  nothing  to  eat,  and 
waiting  to  be  rescued,  and  I  would  drop 
off  to  sleep,  unless  the  cannon  was  too  noisy. 
And  so  the  weeks  used  to  go." 

"It  was  a  terrible  position  for  a  young 
fellow,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal,  with  a  tremor 
in  his  voice.  "Couldn't  you  get  any  news 
to  your  friends?  The  mails  were  allowed 


A   BREAKFAST  WITH   SNY.  143 

to  go  out,  I  am  told.  Even  sent  them  out  in 
balloons,  didn't  they  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Sny.  "  But  you  see"— 
ami  here  he  fixed  his  gray  eyes  upon  Grandpa 
Drnbal's  face — "  I  had  no  friends  to  send  to, 
don't  you  see." 

Just  as  Sny  finished  speaking  there  was  a 
sound  as  of  whirring  wings,  so  clear  and  dis- 
tinct that  all  looked  up,  and  Grandpa  Drnbal 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  said  :  "  Why,  there  is 
a  fine-looking  pigeon  right  on  the  window  sill. 
It  belongs  on  the  roof,  probably.  Noble  fel- 
low, he  is  !  Let's  see  if  he  will  take  a  bite  to 
eat."  And,  with  some  bread  crumbs  in  his 
hand,  Grandpa  Drubal  was  advancing  toward 
the  bird,  which  gazed  steadily  at  him,  with 
some  indignation  apparent  in  its  look,  but 
without  the  least  sign  of  fear.  "If  I  can 
touch  him  on  the  back,"  said  the  old  man,  "I 
will  take  him  in  my  hands  and  bring  him  over 
to  the  table." 

"No,  no;  please  don't  go  nearer  to  him," 
said  Sny's  voice,  and  Grandpa  Drubal  noticed 
that  it  was  tremulous,  as  with  strong  excite- 
ment. "  Just  let  me  get  there,  I'll  take  him," 


144        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

and  he  fairly  brushed  the  old  man  aside,  and 
in  another  instant  had  the  pretty  pigeon  shel- 
tered in  his  hands. 

"Oh,  ho!  He  knows  you,  does  he?"  said 
Grandpa  Drubal. 

Sny  did  not  make  any  answer.  He  was 
busily  examining  the  pigeon's  wings,  lifting 
them  up,  and  fumbling  beneath  them  as  if 
expecting  to  find  something.  At  last  he 
uttered  a  little  cry  as  of  triumph,  pulled  from 
the  right  wing  of  the  pigeon  a  quill,  then 
took  the  bird  to  the  table  and  set  him  down 
there,  and,  after  a  few  words  in  French  from 
Sny,  the  bird  fell  to  eating  ravenously,  taking 
mouthfuls  of  bread,  pecking  at  the  radishes, 
and,  as  Frank  said,  "making  himself  gener- 
ally at  home." 

"  A  carrier  pigeon,  by  King  !  "  said  Grandpa 
Drubal  in  a  whisper.  Then  it  suddenly  oc- 
curred to  him  that  Sny  might  be  engaged 
upon  a  more  important  mission  than  his  ap- 
pearance and  his  circumstances  indicated. 

Sny  had  sunk  back  into  his  chair  beside  the 
table,  and,  without  any  attempt  at  conceal- 
ment,  was  trying  to  open,  with  a  tiny  knife- 


SNY'S  CARRIER  PIGEONS. 


A  BREAKFAST  WITH  8NY.  145 

blade,  the  quill  which  he  had  just  taken  from 
the  pigeon's  wing.  He  succeeded  after  one  or 
two  trials,  and  his  search  was  rewarded  by  the 
finding  of  a  tiny  manuscript  of  finest  parch- 
ment, which  he  hastily  popped  into  an  old- 
fashioned  memorandum-book,  and  hid  in  the 
recesses  of  his  waistcoat's  inner  pocket. 

The  keen  eyes  of  the  boys  lost  none  of  the 
details  of  the  examination  of  the  message  so 
strangely  brought.  But  they  were  both  too 
well  brought  up  to  ask  any  questions. 
Grandpa  Drubal,  through  the  smoke  of  his 
cigar,  noted  the  look  of  mingled  apprehension 
and  triumph  on  the  boy's  face.  Evidently  he 
was  receiving  messages  of  great  importance 
from  some  quarter,  and  possibly  this  tale  of 
poverty  and  misfortune,  and  this  posing  as  a 
moneyless  inhabitant  of  a  deserted  studio, 
were  all  parts  of  an  ingenious  plan  to  mask 
some  serious  purpose. 

If  Sny  felt  that  he  was  observed  he  did  not 
betray  it  by  any  look  or  gesture.  Patting  the 
pigeon's  glossy  plumes,  he  said  pleasantly : 
"Good  old  bird  !  Good  speed  this  time.  You 
shall  have  plenty  of  grain.  Now  come  and 
10 


146        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

take  a  snooze."  Then  he  looked  up,  with  a 
smile  in  his  gray  eyes,  and  said  very  simply : 
"All  these  pigeons  can  be  taught  to  carry 
messages,  I  reckon.  I  am  making  famous 
progress  with  this  one." 

"Looks  like  you  were,  Sny,"  said  Grandpa 
Drubal  quietly.  And  then  the  conversation 
changed  to  other  things. 

And  by  and  by,  when  the  shadows  of  eve- 
ning were  beginning  to  close  over  the  great 
hill,  Sny  escorted  the  company  out  on  to 
the  dark  stairs,  and,  locking  and  double- 
locking  his  door,  he  guided  them  down  to 
the  Rue  Lepic,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
without  any  adventures,  they  found  them- 
selves once  more  in  the  central  part  of  the 
city. 

"  I  say,  grandpa,"  said  little  Will,  who  had 
been  nestled  in  his  grandfather's  arms  for 
the  greater  part  of  the  walk,  "it's  lucky  we 
sent  that  coachman  home.  He  would  have 
been  mighty  hungry  by  this  time.  It  must 
be  most  eight  o'clock." 


CHAPTER   X. 

FRANK   AND  THE    HUNCHBACK. 

SNY  came  and  went  almost  daily,  bringing 
gladness  to  the  hearts  of  the  boys  when- 
ever his  lean,  angular  form  appeared  on  the 
hotel  staircase.  He  was  a  walking  encyclo- 
paedia of  information  about  Paris  and  the 
great  struggle  which  had  now  begun.  He 
knew  the  number  of  battalions  at  the  disposal 
of  the  Commune,  how  many  cannon  they  had, 
who  were  the  best  artillerymen,  who  were 
their  generals,  what  would  be  their  plan  of 
defence,  and  how  long  they  might  expect  to 
hold  out. 

"Then  you  do  not  think,  Sny,"  said 
Grandpa  Drubal  one  day,  "that  the  Com- 
mune will  become  a  permanent  institution  ? " 

Sny  gave  the  old  man  a  queer  look  out  of 
his  great  gray  eyes. 

"They  quarrel  among  themselves  too  much 
for  that,  I  think,"  he  said  slowly. 

147 


148        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Everything  in  his  attitude  was  so  frank 
and  loyal,  except  his  unwillingness  to  allude 
to  his  home  and  his  parentage,  that  Grandpa 
Drubal  dismissed  all  suspicions  of  him  from 
his  mind.  Sny  seemed  to  him  an  adventurous 
wight,  not  yet  quite  emancipated  from  boy- 
hood, of  a  rollicking,  philosophical  humor, 
ready  for  any  adventure,  and  liking  to  dabble 
in  all  sorts  of  experiments. 

" Most  likely,"  thought  the  old  man,  "he 
found  the  pigeons  roosting  there  on  his  studio 
balcony,  and  was  experimenting  with  them." 
And  yet  the  circumstance  seemed  a  strange 
one.  Whenever  he  thought  of  it  it  puzzled 
him  more  and  more. 

Bays  came  and  went— soft  April  days,  de- 
licious with  warmth  and  perfume  of  the  early 
spring ;  with  soft  rays  which  brought  out  the 
perfume  of  the  violets  in  the  great  public  gar- 
dens, now  neglected  and  almost  deserted.  In 
spite  of  the  desolation  which  one  great  siege, 
followed  by  a  second  one  promising  to  be 
more  terrible,  had  wrought,  there  was  still 
beauty  enough  in  the  queen  of  cities  to 
supply  half  a  dozen  ordinary  towns.  The 


FRANK  AND  THE  HUNCHBACK.  149 

military  operations  for  the  time  seemed  sus- 
pended. Straggling  battalions  came  and 
went,  but  there  was  little  clatter  of  musketry 
outside.  Sometimes  Grandpa  Drubal,  looking 
from  his  window  at  early  morning,  would  see 
gay  troops  of  excursionists,  mounted  in  cabs 
and  wagons  filled  with  benches,  clattering 
across  the  smooth  pavement  on  their  way  to 
the  outskirts  for  their  annual  spring  frolic. 
A  feeling  of  security  had  come  to  all  who 
were  within  the  walls  of  the  capital,  although 
they  knew  well  that  it  was  the  lull  before  the 
storm. 

•  One  morning,  about  a  fortnight  after  they 
had  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  Sny, 
Frank,  who  had  risen  early,  appeared  at 
Grandpa  Drubal' s  bedside,  and  asked  per- 
mission to  go  up  to  Montmartre  to  pay  a  visit 
to  Sny  in  his  house. 

"  Sho !  "  said  the  old  man  rather  sleepily. 
"It  is  too  far  for  a  boy  to  go  alone.  You 
might  get  kidnapped,  Frank.  Who  knows  ? " 
Fiddlestick!"  said  Frank.  "I  reckon  I 

im  big  enough  to  take  care  of  myself.     I  can 
in  faster  than  most  kidnappers.     Besides,  at 


150  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

this  hour  in  the  morning  I  wouldn't  meet 
fifty  people  going  up  there.  I  haven't  seen 
Sny  for  two  days.  I'm  afraid  he  is  sick.  I 
will  be  up  there  and  fetch  Sny  down  here, 
grandpa,  before  you  are  ready  to  go  out  this 
morning." 

After  a  little  reflection,  Grandpa  Drubal  de- 
cided that  the  visit  had  nothing  dangerous 
in  it. 

"If  you're  disturbed  by  anybody,  Frank, 
hail  a  cab  and  jump  into  it,"  he  said,  "and 
come  back  here.  And  if  you  are  not  back 
here  by  ten  o'clock,  I  shall  hunt  for  you." 

"  All  right,  grandpa,"  said  Frank  joyously^ 
seizing  his  cap  and  his  cane,  and  a  book  or 
two  which  he  had  promised  to  lend  Sny,  who 
was  an  omnivorous  reader. 

Away  across  the  grand  boulevards  and 
along  the  Rue  de  la  Trinite  Frank  sped, 
soon  was  climbing  the  Rue  Blanche,  and  in 
half  an  hour  he  was  at  the  top  of  the  stairs 
near  "Sny's  house." 

Up  to  this  time  he  had  hardly  looked 
around.  But,  stopping  to  breathe  on  the  top- 
most step  of  the  great  stone  stairway,  he  saw 


FRANK   AND   THE  HUNCHBACK.  151 

a  bent  and  crooked  figure  stealing  away  in  a 
manner  which  struck  him  as  peculiar.  "  Why, 
it  looks  as  if  that  fellow  had  been  following 
me,"  he  said  to  himself.  And  he  gave  an 
extra  flourish  to  his  cane,  and  stepped  for- 
ward as  if  to  hail  the  personage.  Then  he 
reflected  that  it  would  be  better  to  continue 
his  route  and  see  if  the  man  were  really  dog- 
ging his  footsteps.  So  he  went  smartly  for- 
ward into  the  centre  of  the  square,  then 

ime  back  lightly  on  tiptoe  to  the  top  of  the 
stairs. 

Surely,  there  was  the  same  man,  bent  and 
crooked,  but  not  old — a  youngish  man  with 
a  bad  face — scrambling  up  the  stairs,  as  if 
hurrying  to  see  where  Frank  had  gone.  At 
sight  of  the  youth  returning,  he  took  to  his 
heels  and  scurried  away,  as  if  afraid  of  being 
stopped  and  questioned.  "  He  was  following 
me,"  thought  Frank,  and  a  little  chill  shot 
through  him.  "I  wonder  what  he  wants 
of  me!" 

Then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  he 
had  seen  the  man's  face  before.  He  dimly 
recalled  it  as  one  which  had  passed  before  him 


152        UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

when  lie  was  walking  in  the  Tuileries  Garden 
with  Sny.  Was  it  so,  or  was  it  the  remem- 
brance of  a  dream  ? 

He  pushed  this  aside  as  an  idle  fancy,  and 
hurrying  across  the  square  entered  the  open 
door  of  Sny's  house,  where  no  concierge 
with  sharp  voice  challenged  him  as  he  started 
up  the  stairway.  His  footfalls  had  a  strange 
sound  in  this  deserted  old  house,  which 
seemed  full  of  strange  memories  of  the  past. 
He  could  almost  fancy  that  ghosts  brushed  by 
him  as  he  mounted  the  black  stairs  with  their 
old-fashioned  balustrades  of  thick  timber 
carved  two  or  three  centuries  before  Columbus 
had  discovered  the  New  World.  "Pshaw  !  " 
he  said,  "  I  wish  grandpa  would  let  me  alone 
with  his  precautions.  He's  enough  to  scare 
a  fellow  to  death,  anyway."  Yet  in  spite  of 
his  determination  to  be  courageous,  when  a 
loose  blind  flapped  at  a  window  which  he 
could  not  see,  awakening  echoes  which  fled 
through  the  darkened  halls,  he  jumped  back 
as  if  a  mysterious  hand  had  been  laid  upon 
his  shoulder.  "  This  is  pretty  grewsome,"  he 
said  to  himself,  as  he  climbed  the  last  flight 


FRANK   AND  THE  HUNCHBACK.  153 

of  stairs.  "  I  shall  be  glad  when  I  get  into 
Sny's  den." 

Sny's  door  generally  stood  ajar  when  he 
was  at  home.  As  the  youth  himself  expressed 
it,  ' '  There  was  no  use  in  guarding  against 
robbers  when  you  have  nothing  to  steal." 
The  black,  ancient  oaken  door  opened  directly 
into  a  small  ante-chamber,  out  of  which  a 
smaller  door  in  the  high  wall  led  into  the 
studio.  Frank  placed  his  hand  on  the  outer 
door,  expecting  it  to  swing  open,  but  to  his 
surprise  he  found  it  solidly  closed.  Evidently 
Sny  was  not  at  home.  Yet  he  disliked  to 
return  without  seeing  him.  "Maybe  he  is 
not  up  yet,"  he  said. 

A  fragment  of  bell-cord  still  hung  outside 
the  door.  On  tiptoe  Frank  just  managed  to 
reach  it,  and,  grasping  it,  he  rang  a  peal 
which  he  could  hear  resound  through  the 
recesses  of  the  apartment  within.  There  was 
no  answer,  and  Frank,  leaping  up  to  catch 
the  rope,  rang  again  so  lustily  that  if  there 
had  been  any  inhabitants  other  than  Sny  upon 
the  floor,  they  must  have  come  rushing  to 
their  doors  to  know  what  was  the  matter. 


154  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

After  a  long  time,  the  sound  of  footsteps 
was  heard  in  the  ante-chamber,  and  there  was 
a  fumbling  at  the  lock  of  the  door.  Just  as 
the  key  grated  in  the  lock,  Frank  fancied  that 
he  heard  behind  him  a  shuffling  step  on  the 
stairway.  He  looked  around  quickly,  and, 
to  his  surprise,  and  somewhat  to  his  alarm, 
he  saw  the  top  of  a  head  vanishing  as  its 
owner  descended  noiselessly.  Evidently  the 
strange  figure  which  he  had  seen  on  the  stone 
stairs  in  the  street  was  following  him  with 
dogged  perseverance. 

But  youth  takes  small  account  of  such 
things  so  long  as  the  danger  is  still  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, and  in  the  joy  of  greeting  Sny,  who  had 
now  thrown  open  the  door  and  stood  looking, 
somewhat  dazed  and  just  a  little  pale,  at  his 
visitor,  Frank  forgot  his  momentary  alarm. 

"Hallo,  Frankie!"  said  Sny,  in  a  voice 
which  seemed  a  little  hollow  and  feeble,  as 
if  he  had  been  hard  at  work,  or  had  not 
had  much  to  eat  for  a  day  or  two.  "  What 
brings  you  to  Elsinore,  as  Hamlet  said  to  the 
ghost?  Leastways,  I  have  been  told  that  he 
said  so." 


FRANK   AND  THE  HUNCHBACK.  155 

"Anxious  to  see  you  again,  Sny,"  said 
Frank.  "  We  were  to  liave  taken  a  walk 
yesterday,  don't  you  remember?  And  you 
didn'  t  appear.  I  thought  perhaps  you  might 
be  out  of  sorts." 

"Oh,  no  !  "  said  Sny  a  little  uneasily.  "I 
have  been  pretty  busy  on  a  small  piece  of 
work  I  had  to  attend  to,  and  I  thought  I 
wouldn't  bother  you."  Then  he  added,  with 
a  certain  hesitation  :  "  Well,  come  in,  and  if 
you  don't  mind  letting  me  finish  what  I  am 
doing,  and  not  ask  me  what  it  is,  I  can  be 
ready  for  a  frolic  in  about  two  twinkles  of  a 
bed-post."  He  spoke  almost  in  a  whisper, 
and  hurried  Frank  in  and  closed  and  double- 
locked  the  door,  adding:  "You  see  we  have 
to  be  sort  of  prudent  in  these  times.  There 
are  so  many  spies  about  that  any  little  scien- 
tific piece  of  work,  such  as  I  am  fixing  up  here, 
has  to  be  done  where  there  are  no  observers." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Frank,  "  I  shall  not  even  look 
at  what  you  are  doing.  All  I  want  is  to  get 
out  into  the  open  air  with  you  and  have 
another  of  those  good  talks  about  the  big 
city  and  its  history." 


156  UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

There  was  no  answer,  and  looking  up  at  Sny 
he  saw  that  the  youth  had  already  left  him, 
and  gone  to  a  table  in  a  darkened  corner  of 
the  room,  upon  which  were  placed  a  number 
of  instruments  such  as  Frank  had  never  seen 
before.  Bending  over  them,  Sny  busied  him- 
self for  a  few  minutes  ;  then  he  suddenly 
pulled  a  screen  around  in  front  of  himself 
and  the  table,  so  that  Frank  could  see  nothing. 
At  the  end  of  ten  or  twelve  minutes,  he  came 
out  of  his  hiding-place  bearing  in  his  hands 
something  which  looked  much  like  a  photo- 
graph. He  examined  it  with  great  care,  first 
through  a  small  glass  which  he  drew  from  his 
pocket,  then  with  the  naked  eye,  and  at  last, 
nodding  his  head  approvingly  he  took  it  back 
behind  the  screen,  and  was  gone  again  for 
some  minutes.  When  he  emerged  anew,  he 
pushed  the  screen  away,  and  Frank  saw  that 
all  signs  of  his  work  had  disappeared,  and 
right  on  the  table  in  the  place  where  the 
curious  instruments  had  so  lately  been,  now 
stood  two  or  three  soft  heliotrope-plumed 
pigeons  with  dainty  whitish  breasts,  and 
with  delicately  colored  bills,  murmuring,  in 


FRANK   AND  THE  HUNCHBACK.  157 

their  pigeon  talk,  what  seemed  to  be  cordial 
admiration  of  Sny  and  all  his  works. 

That  Frank's  features  expressed  a  lively 
curiosity  Sny  could  not  refrain  from  noticing. 
Advancing  toward  the  boy,  and  placing  his 
great  hand  on  Frank's  shoulder,  lie  said : 
"If  I  could  tell  you  lots  of  things,  I  would 
tell  them.  But  there  are  some  occasions 
when  you  can't  explain.  I  reckon  you  un- 
derstand that.  If  you  would  promise  me 
not  to  say  a  word  about  anything  you  see 
when  you  come  here,  either  to  Grandpa 
Drubal  or  to  anyone  else,  I  should  feel  a 
good  deal  easier  in  my  mind.  I  suppose 
you  know  I  would  not  do  anything  wrong, 
and  yet  I  can't  tell  you  what  I  am  doing, 
and  I  know  you  must  wonder." 

"So  long  as  it  is  nothing  wrong,  Sny," 
said  Frank,  "I  don't  want  to  ask  you  what 
it  is.  I  hope  it  is  nothing  that  will  get 
you  into  trouble  in  these  troublesome  times. 
And  one  reason  why  I  came  to  see  you 
this  morning  is  that  I  think  grandpa  is  get- 
ting ready  to  go  away.  We  find  we  cannot 
do  what  we  came  here  for,  just  now,  and  I 


158         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

know  lie  wants  to  be  out  of  the  disturb- 
ances. And  what  I  wanted  to  ask  you,  when 
I  could  get  you  alone,  is,  Wouldn't  you  like 
to  join  us?  I  know  that  grandpa  will  say 
1  Come  along,'  if  he  thinks  I  want  you.  I 
don't  suppose  you  have  anything  that  makes 
it  necessary  for  you  to  remain  here  ? " 

"  Well,  now,  we  are  getting  personal  again,'1 
said  Sny,  with  a  flash  of  his  old  shyness.  "  I 
am  not  so  certain  that  we  could  either  of  us 
get  away  if  we  wanted  to.  The  situation 
seems  to  be  tightening  up  a  little,  as  the  man 
said  when  he  was  lynched." 

"But  I  thought  you  believed  the  thing 
almost  over,"  said  Frank. 

"So  I  did!  So  I  did!"  answered  Sny. 
"But  since  then  I  have  heard  some  strange 
news.  As  for  going  with  you  just  now,  I 
don't  reckon  it  would  be  wise.  But  to  be 
with  you  as  much  as  I  can  till  you  do  go 
is  the  desire  of  the  undersigned.  So  come 
along !  But  hold  on,  I  believe  I  haven't  eaten 
my  breakfast  yet !  I  got  so  used  to  having 
none  a  few  months  ago  that  I  can't  always 
remember  to  take  it." 


FRANK   AND  THE  HUNCHBACK.  159 

Frank  laughed  heartily,  and  sat  down  near 
the  range,  while  Sny  made  himself  a  cup  of 
coffee  and  breakfasted  on  a  penny  roll  and  the 
two  cents'  worth  of  milk  which  the  tall,  sallow 
woman  nowadays  left  every  morning  at  his 
door.  "Now,"  he  said,  after  the  last  crumb 
had  disappeared,  "I  could  lead  an  army  or 
found  a  colony.  Where  shall  we  go  to-day  ? 
Oh,  by  the  way,  let's  go  down  and  look  at  my 
old  coffee  pot.  I  have  got  to  drive  it  out  to- 
morrow." 

"  Coffee  pot !  Drive  it  out !  Sny,  what  do 
you  mean?" 

"Come  along  and  see,"  said  the  strange 
Sny,  flourishing  his  arms.  "  We  will  go  down 
to  the  stable  where  they  keep  it  and  see  if  it  is 
in  good  order."  And  locking  and  double  lock- 
ing his  door,  he  stuffed  a  little  piece  of  paper 
into  the  keyhole,  and  stepped  off  at  such  a 
pace  down  the  stairs  that  Frank  could  hardly 
keep  up  with  him. 

They  went  through  the  square  and  down  a 
crooked  street  until  they  came  to  a  little 
courtyard,  where  huge  drays  were  hauled  up 
under  the  sheds,  and  where  great  Percheron 


160         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

horses,  with  their  tails  braided  and  orna- 
mented with  stripes  of  blue  and  red  flannel, 
were  peacefully  eating  out  of  little  mangers 
in  the  open  air.  One  or  two  mottled  bulldogs 
came  leaping  toward  the  boys  as  they  entered, 
but  fell  away  in  response  to  Sny's  kind  words, 
and  followed  him  humbly,  as  if  they  knew  and 
respected  him.  A  huge  rooster,  perched  on  a 
beam  over  the  horses'  heads,  set  up  a  cheery 
crowing  from  the  depths  of  a  dark  stable. 
The  lusty  bray  of  an  ass  came  resounding 
through  the  shadowy  space. 

Sny  went  to  the  farthest  corner  of  the  yard, 
and  there,  under  a  little  shed,  Frank  saw  a 
curious  vehicle.  It  was  truly  as  Sny  had 
described  it,  a  coffee  pot,— a  huge  coffee  pot, 
a  boiler  mounted  on  wheels  and  provided  with 
a  furnace  in  which  alcohol  could  be  burned  to 
keep  the  contents  of  the  huge  receptacle  hot 
for  a  long  time. 

"There  you  are,"  said  Sny,  pointing  to  the 
strange  combination.  "  There  is  the  machine 
that  I  have  got  to  drive  out  to-morrow,  accord- 
ing to  my  contract  with  the  gentleman  that 
owns  it,  and  if  I  don't  see  some  shooting 


FRANK   AND  THE  HUNCHBACK.  161 

before  I  get  back  it  won't  be  my  fault.  This 
coffee  pot  here  belonged  to  the  American  am- 
buhmce  that  operated  in  Paris  during  the 
Prussian  siege.  It  has  been  under  fire  several 
times  and  never  got  hit  yet,  but  I  reckon  its 
day  will  come.  The  man  that  bought  it,  after 
the  siege,  was  very  good  to  me  when  I  was 
in  trouble  here  a  month  ago,  and  I  made  a 
promise  that  if  he  wanted  to  run  it  out  to 
the  fighting  at  any  time  to  furnish  coffee  to 
the  wounded,  I  should  take  charge  of  it." 

44  Glory  !"  said  Frank.  "Wouldn't  I  like 
to  go  with  you  !  " 

"I  am  afraid  that  wouldn't  do,"  said  Sny. 
"There  is  hardly  room  for  two,  as  you  can 
see,  on  the  front,  and  if  anything  should 
happen  to  you,  your  grandpa  would  never 
forgive  me.  You  see  there  are  two  ways  of 
getting  into  mischief  with  tfiis  thing.  You 
can  get  combed  down  by  a  shell  right  where 
you  sit  on  the  front  seat,  or  the  coffee  pot 
may  get  cut  in  two,  and  then  you  will  be 
liable  to  get  scalded  to  death  with  fifty  or 
sixty  gallons  of  hot  coffee.  But  I  think 
there  is  small  danger,  after  all.  I  shouldn't 
11 


162         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

like  to  get  captured  while  I  was  driving 
it " 

"That  would  be  romantic,"  said  Frank. 
"  I  don't  believe  they  would  do  you  any  harm. 
They  would  see  that  you  are  a  non-combatant; 
they  wouldn't  treat  you  like  a  Communist." 

"Yes,  they  would,"  said  Sny.  "They 
would  drink  up  the  coffee  first,  and  shoot 
me  afterward.  Don't  you  believe  that  they 
have  any  softness  in  their  dispositions.  Well, 
sink  or  swim,  survive  or  perish,  I  am 
going  to  drive  this  thing  out  of  this  yard 
to-morrow  morning  at  five-thirty !  If  you 
want  to  see  the  start,  you  can  be  here." 

At  this  juncture,  the  owner  of  the  stable- 
yard  appeared  and  entered  into  a  lom^  discus- 
sion with  Sny,  presumably  in  regard  to  the 
quantity  of  coffee  to  be  secured,  the  time  it 
would  take  to  prepare  it,  and  the  best  route 
for  reaching  the  scene  of  the  most  active 
hostilities. 


CHAPTER  XL 

SNY   IN  HOSPITAL. 

T~T  was  in  the  great  "  Tent- Hospital,"  which 
_L  the  Commune  had  established  in  the  vast 
shaded  expanse  behind  the  Palais  de  1' Indus- 
trie that  Frank  and  Grandpa  Drubal  next  saw 
Sny.  They  had  missed  him  for  a  week,  and 
the  old  man  had  himself  made  three  separate 
journeys  to  the  house  on  the  windy  slope  of 
Montmartre  in  the  hope  of  finding  the  boy,  in 
whom  he  was  beginning  to  take  a  strange 
interest.  But  every  day  he  found  the  same 
piece  of  paper  still  stuffed  in  the  keyhole  as 
Sny  had  left  it,  and  each  day  the  resounding 
knocks  which  he  gave  on  the  black  oak  door 
brought  no  response.  Frank  and  little  Will 
were  ready  to  cry  with  vexation,  and  Frank 
himself  had  a  vague  suspicion  that  Suy's  dis- 
appearance was  connected  in  some  mysterious 
way  with  the  carrier  pigeons,  and  the  mes- 

163 


164         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

sages  which  the  boy  had  seen  him  poring  over 
and  experimenting  upon  in  the  studio.  A 
chance  remark  which  Grandpa  Drubal  had  let 
fall  had  confirmed  this  fear  in  Frank's  mind, 
and  he  reproached  himself  as  if  he  had  been 
in  some  unaccountable  way  connected  with, 
or  responsible,  for  it.  So  that  they  were  all 
immensely  relieved  when,  on  a  Sunday  morn- 
ing, Marcelle  came  in  with  a  crumpled  note 
upon  which  Grandpa  Drubal,  when  he  had 
put  on  his  specs,  recognized  the  clerk-like 
script  of  Sny. 

"  Whoop,  Frank!"  he  said,  capering  around 
the  room  as  if  he  had  been  twenty  instead  of 
past  sixty ;  "  here  is  a  letter  from  Sny!  Now 
we  shall  know  all  about  it." 

The  two  boys  began  to  dance  so  that  they 
jarred  the  chandeliers  and  set  all  the  pendants 
to  twinkling.  Grandpa  Drubal,  by  the  time 
he  had  finished  his  saltatory  exercises,  was 
quite  out  of  breath,  and  had  to  settle  into 
an  arm-chair  to  rest  a  minute  before  he  could 
read  the  letter. 

These  were  the  contents  : 


SNY  IN   HOSPITAL.  165 

DEAR  MR.  CORNERS  AND  FRANK  AND  WILL  : 

I  am  all  rig-lit  except  a  pretty  lively  fracture  of  the 
collar  boue  which  I  got  while  driving  out  the  coffee  pot 
last  week,  iu  the  middle  of  a  smart  skirmish  below  the 
terrace  of  Saint  Germain.  It  makes  me  laugh  every 
time  I  think  of  the  fun  that  I  had,  although  it  hurts  my 
collar  bone  powerful  bad  when  I  do  laugh.  How  I  wish 
Frank  and  Will  had  been  there  to  see  me  cavorting  off 
over  the  rough  ground  with  the  old  white  mare's  tail 
streaming  out  behind,  and  the  coffee  pot  bounding  six 
feet  into  the  air  every  time  we  struck  a  snag.  I  tell  you 
it  was  fun  alive,  and  the  old  mare  enjoyed  it  as  much  as 
I  did  until  a  bullet  struck  her  in  one  of  the  hind  legs, 
and  then  we  had  trouble  on  the  half-shell. 

You  see,  I  had  served  out  about  three  gallons  of  coffee 
to  Communists  that  were  loafing  down  by  the  rear,  and 
hangers-on  that  had  no  business  to  have  coffee  any- 
way, so  I  halted  and  brewed  another  lot,  and  the  old 
thing  was  brimful  when  I  started  toward  the  front, 
where  my  beverage  would  be  of  some  use  to  the  wounded 
and  the  tired.  Then  there  came  along  a  fool  officer,  who 
insisted  on  my  getting  out  into  the  ditch  to  let  some 
troops  go  by,  and  there  me  and  the  mare  stayed  for  four 
mortal  hours,  both  of  us  ready  to  swear  because  we  could 
not  get  where  we  could  do  some  good.  Next  there  came 
along  a  party  of  bushwhackers  (as  we  call  them  out 
West),  regular  toughs  from  Belleville,  and  they  swooped 
down  on  the  devoted  coffee  pot  like  a  lot  of  vultures  on  a 
dead  ox.  I  scared  them  off,  told  them  that  I  had  been 
sent  back  to  the  rear  because  they  suspected  the  coffee  had 
been  poisoned  by  the  Versaillists.  They  all  started  and 
ran  away  on  a  dead  run,  and  left  the  old  mare  and  me 
unmolested.  By  and  by  the  troops  got  past,  but  I  found 
that  I  should  have  to  follow  at  a  snail's  pace  if  I  stuck 


166        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

to  the  main  road,  so  I  said,  "Jerusalem,  this  won't  do 
for  us  !  We  won't  get  where  this  coffee  will  do  the 
most  good  before  midnight."  Then  I  struck  out  'cross 
lots,  and  drove  through  a  gentleman's  park  where  there 
was  a  wild  bull  loose.  Lucky  we  didn't  have  a  red  flag 
with  us  then,  I  bet  you  !  The  bull  he  kind  of  sniffed 
and  shook  his  horns  ;  the  old  mare  she  lit  out,  and  we 
crossed  that  park  in  two  forty  time,  I  tell  you  ;  jumping 
ditches  seven  feet  wide.  And  every  time  we  jumped 
the  coffee  went  ker-chunk  inside  the  old  can,  and  once 
in  a  while  it  slopped  over  and  ran  down  my  back.  Got 
the  marks  there  now. 

Well,  my  hand  is  getting  tired,  and  my  collar  bone 
aches,  and  this  story  is  long  enough,  anyhow.  So  these 
lines  are  just  to  let  you  know  that  I  am  in  the  Tent 
Hospital,  same  Hospital  as  the  Okolowiczs — three  of 
them,  all  brave  fellows,  and  wounded  pretty  bad.  My 
cot  is  next  the  biggest  of  the  Okolowiczs.  So  if  you  can 
get  time  to  make  a  fellow  a  visit,  I  should  feel  highly 
honored,  and  remain  ever, 

Yours  truly, 

SXY. 

P.  S. — I  reckon  I  forgot  to  tell  you  how  I  happened  to 
get  wounded.  You  see,  in  journeying  'cross  lots  at  this 
slow  speed,  both  me  and  the  old  mare  lost  our  heads,  and 
we  came  pretty  near  losing  our  lives,  because  we  got  in 
between  the  lines,  between  the  Communists  and  the 
Versaillists,  and  there  they  were  both  popping  away  at 
that  coffee  pot,  and  at  me,  and  at  the  old  mare,  as  the 
hunters  pop  at  quail  in  the  season  right  in  them  same 
fields.  Well,  I  didn't  care  much  for  bullets,  and  they 
only  sort  of  tickled  the  old  mare,  and  made  her  go  faster, 
but  by  and  by  some  fool  gunner  on  the  Versaillist  side 
beghmed  to  fire  shell  at  us,  and  that  wasn't  so  pleasant. 


SNY   IN  HOSPITAL.  167 

I  tell  you  when  I  saw  those  biggest  shells  a-coming, 
looking  first  like  a  sparrow,  then  like  an  eagle,  and  then 
like  a  house  with  a  big  barn  hitched  on  to  it,  my  heart 
just  got  up  in  my  mouth  and  danced  around  there,  but 
I  knew  it  wouldn't  help  to  complain,  so  I  kept  on  going 
and  going.  All  of  a  sudden  there  came  a  whizz  and  a 
bang,  and  when  I  got  up  and  scratched  my  head  and 
looked  around,  the  old  hind  wheels  of  the  coffee  pot  had 
gone  in  one  direction  and  the  old  mare  and  the  fore 
wheels  and  what  was  left  of  the  tin  contraption  had  run 
plumb  into  the  Communist  lines,  and  so  my  coffee  was 
getting  drunk  up  at  last.  I  shook  myself,  and  then 
found  that  I  had  a  break  in  the  collar  bone,  and  that  I 
had  to  hold  myself  together  and  toddle  over  to  the  lines 
as  fast  as  I  could.  When  I  got  in  I  just  fainted  away, 
and  when  I  knew  anything  more  I  was  in  the  ambulance 
on  my  way  back  to  Paris.  I  suppose  they'll  call  me  a 
Communist  now,  and  if  the  troops  from  Versailles 
should  happen  to  come  in  while  I  am  here  it  is  good- 
morriing  to  me,  as  you  will  all  probably  find  out. 
Hoping  for  your  visit,  as  I  said  before, 

Yours, 

SNY. 


Grandpa  Drubal  read  this  boyish  missive 
through  with  great  eloquence  and  satisfac- 
tion. His  eyes  twinkled  as  he  read  the  story 
of  the  vicissitudes  of  the  coffee  pot  guided  by 
the  adventurous  Sny,  and  from  time  to  time 
he  stopped  to  express  his  admiration  of  the 
action  of  the  old  mare  under  difficulties. 


168         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"Oh,  grandpa!  why  didn't  you  let  me  go, 
too?  It  would  have  been  such  fun!"  said 
Frank. 

The  old  man  laid  the  letter  down  and 
looked  gravely  at  Frank  over  his  spectacles. 

"Fun!"  he  said;  "fun  to  have  three  or 
four  pails  of  hot  coffee  running  down  your 
back  I  Fun  to  have  two  or  three  shells  hunt- 
ing for  you  all  over  the  pastures  and  lots ! 
Fun  to  be  laid  up  in  a  hospital  with  blood 
poisoning  and  amputation,  and  two  or  three 
other  things  waiting  to  get  you !  What  are 
you  thinking  of,  Frank  ?  I  reckon  you'd 
better  stay  to  home  until  you  get  a  little 
older  ! " 

"But,  grandpa,"  said  Will's  sweet  voice, 
"if  Frankie  had  been  there  perhaps  nothing 
would  have  happened  to  either  of  them  :  who 
knows?" 

"Well,  at  least  we  don't  know,"  said 
Grandpa  Drubal,  "  so  let's  drop  that.  Now, 
get  your  hats,  boys,  and  we'll  trudge  down  to 
the  Tent  Hospital,  as  he  calls  it,  and  see  the 
hero  of  the  coffee  pot  adventures." 

All  the  beautiful    alleys    in    the    Champs 


SNY   IN   HOSPITAL.  169 

Elysees  were  clad  in  the  tender  and  delicious 
green  of  early  spring.  Streets  and  roadways 
were  filled  with  the  sweet  perfume  of  the 
leaves  and  blossoms ;  the  blue-bloused  gar- 
deners were  loosening  the  black  earth  in  the 
great  flower  beds  inside  the  dwarf  hedges 
which  enclosed  the  gardens  of  the  cafe  con- 
certs. There  was  a  mild  warmth  in  the  breeze, 
and  everything  spoke  of  the  joyous  incoming 
of  the  fine  season.  As  the  three  passed 
through  the  beautifully  gravelled  spaces, 
shaded  with  leaves  of  horse-chestnuts  and 
of  sycamores,  and  as  they  watched  the  groups 
of  merry  babies  playing  under  the  guardian- 
ship of  the  white-capped  and  gray-cloaked 
nurses,  it  seemed  to  them  almost  impossible 
that  civil  war,  ravenous  and  horrible,  was 
stalking  in  the  fields  a  few  miles  from  them. 
In  the  centre  of  the  broad  avenue  of  the 
Champs  Elysees  Frank  came  suddenly  upon 
a  face  which  he  remembered,  and  it  inspired 
him  with  a  certain  instinctive  loathing,  so 
that  he  started  back  as  if  he  had  seen  a  ser- 
pent. It  was  the  face  of  the  little  man  whom 
he  had  seen  upon  the  stairs  at  Montmartre, 


170         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

and  although  he  had  given  but  one  keen 
glance  at  the  features  they  had  then  been  so 
perfectly  imprinted  upon  his  memory  that 
now  he  could  not  mistake  them. 

"Why,  Frank,  what  is  the  matter?"  said 
his  grandfather.  "  You  jumped  as  if  you 
had  seen  an  adder." 

"Oh,  nothing,  grandpa,"  said  the  boy. 
But  something  told  him  to  turn  around,  and 
glancing  backward  he  was  startled  to  observe 
that  the  little  man,  a  hunchback,  curiously 
and  almost  quaintly  deformed,  was  looking 
after  him  with  an  evil  smile  upon  his  lips, 
"as  if,"  the  boy  thought,  "he  had  me  in  his 
grip  and  wanted  to  do  something  dreadful  to 
me."  Frank  often  thought  of  that  meeting  in 
the  weeks  afterward,  and  whenever  he  did 
think  of  it  he  felt  that  same  sensation  of  re- 
pulsion, that  nameless  repugnance  and  terror, 
as  if  the  object  which  he  dreaded  were  again 
before  him. 

He  thought  it  best  to  say  nothing  to  his 
grandfather  of  the  little  man  and  the  curious 
circumstance  of  his  encounter  on  the  heights 
of  Montmartre.  They  hurried  along  the 


8NY   IN   HOSPITAL.  171 

smooth  walks  where  the  sun  and  shadow 
were  making  checker  work  on  the  gravel,  and 
presently  they  came  to  a  slouching  sentinel, 
who,  in  demand  to  their  request  for  the  Tent 
Hospital,  motioned  to  the  left  with  his 
bayonet  and  then  asked  them  for  a  gratuity. 

Grandpa  Drubal  handed  out  a  ten-franc 
piece  with  a  majestic  air,  at  sight  of  which  the 
soldier  took  off  his  cap,  then  shouldered  his 
musket,  and  accompanied  them  a  short  dis- 
tance, leaving  them  directly  at  a  canvas  door, 
on  which  was  roughly  painted,  "Hospital. 
No  visitors  allowed  after  four  o'clock.  No 
spirits  or  tobacco  to  be  given  to  any  of  the 
wounded  without  permission." 

"Oh,  Frankie!"  said  little  Will,  "this  is 
just  like  a  circus.  See,  you  could  almost 
creep  under  the  canvas  if  the  soldier  wasn't 
looking." 

Grandpa  Drubal  lifted  up  the  canvas  flap 
and  entered  a  long  corridor  of  the  tent,  at  the 
end  of  which  he  saw  a  sweet-faced  Sister  of 
Charity  awaiting  him.  This  meek  and  comely 
personage  addressed  him  in  the  politest  of 
French,  at  which  Grandpa  Drubal  drew  forth 


172         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

his  old-fasliioned  tablets,  and  writing  with  a 
great  flourish  the  words,  "General  Corners 
from  America,"  handed  it  to  her  with  an  old 
school  bow  which  would  have  won  the  heart 
of  an  empress.  The  Sister  of  Charity  spoke  a 
few  words  of  English  (the  word  "general" 
was  all  convincing),  and  learning  that  the  per- 
son called  Sny  was  the  object  of  the  general's 
visit,  she  conducted  him,  talking  all  the  time, 
to  the  corner  where  the  youth,  very  pale  and 
much  thinner  even  than  before  his  mishap, 
lay  with  his  eyes  closed  and  his  big  hands 
crossed  over  his  breast. 

"Goodness,  grandpa !  he  isn't  dead,  is  he ? " 
said  Frank,  with  a  sinking  of  the  heart.  And 
Grandpa  Drubal  was  the  least  bit  startled,  but 
he  said  stoutly:  "No,  of  course  not,  Frank; 
he  has  just  dropped  off  to  sleep." 

There  was  a  strong  odor  of  antiseptics,  oint- 
ments, and  liniments,  so  that  Grandpa  Drubal 
looked  doubtfully  at  little  Will,  and  began  to 
question  the  wisdom  of  having  brought  the 
child  into  such  a  place ;  but  everything  was 
clean  and  wholesome,  and  the  wounded  men 
were  evidently  well  cared  for.  There  was  one 


8NY   IN  HOSPITAL.  173 

dark-mustached,  dark-faced,  brilliant-eyed 
officer  whose  foot  had  been  terribly  wounded 
and  was  swollen  to  an  immense  size.  This 
poor  fellow  lay  looking  up  at  the  ceiling,  and 
doubtless  meditating  that  if  the  regular  troops 
happened  in  just  then  he  would  not  have  time 
to  make  his  will. 

All  these  things  the  boys  and  the  old  man 
noted  with  quick  eyes,  while  they  spoke  in 
whispers  and  stood  close  together,  waiting  for 
Sny  t )  awake.  The  Sister  had  vanished  to 
attend  to  her  numerous  duties,  and  there  was 
an  awkward  pause  of  some  minutes,  for  Sny 
was  breathing  heavily  and  did  not  seem  likely 
to  awake  just  then.  But  presently  he  opened 
his  eyes,  and  when  he  saw  them  standing  at 
his  bedside,  he  lifted  up  his  head  feebly  and 
made  them  a  sign  of  recognition ;  then  in  a 
thin  voice  which  sounded  as  if  it  came  from  a 
long  distance,  he  said  :  "  Well,  I  see  that  you 
all  got  my  letter  about  the  old  mare  and  the 
coffee  pot." 

"Yes,  Sny,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal. 
"Mighty  glad  to  see  that  you  are  alive  and 
kicking,  though  as  to  the  kicking,  I  don't 


174         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

suppose  it  would  be  powerful  just  at  this 
particular  moment.  But  we  thought  we 
would  run  down 'and  let  you  know  that  we 
are  in  the  land  of  the  living,  and  ready  to 
take  you  away  from  here  to  where  you  will 
be  safer  as  soon  as  you  can  be  moved." 

•'  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  Sny,  and  a  little 
bit  of  color  stole  into  a  corner  of  his  pallid 
cheek.  "Mighty  good  of  you,  general;  but 
I'm  ail  right  here  for  a  few  days.  Only  if 
you  should  happen  to  hear  of  the  regulars 
coming  you  might  send  me  word.  I  reckon 
that  then  I  should  take  up  my  bed  and  walk." 

"  What  a  nice  bed  you  have  got,  Sny,"  said 
little  Will.  "Much  nicer  than  that  old  thing 
you  have  up  at  the  studio.  I  wish  you  could 
take  it  with  you  when  you  go  away." 

"Well,  I'm  afraid  the  Comumne  might 
make  some  objections,"  said  Sny,  winking  at 
Frank.  "I  reckon  it  means  to  have  a  good 
many  occupants  in  this  bed  before  the  war  is 
over,  judging  from  the  way  it  shoves  forward 
troops  to  be  mowed  down  by  the  regulars." 

"Sho!  you  don't  say  so,"  said  Grandpa 
Drubal.  "No  kind  of  soldiers,  are  they?" 


SNY  IN  HOSPITAL.  175 

Sny  gave  him  a  warning  look.  "  Some  of 
those  officers  over  there  speak  English,"  he 
said,  in  a  whisper. 

"  Well,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal,  "  I  didn't 
say  anything  worth  being  hanged  for,  I 
reckon.  But  how  was  it,  Sny,  that  you 
managed  to  get  out  of  the  lines  ?  A  military 
man  ought  to  keep  his  eye  peeled  against 
contingencies  like  that." 

"I  know,"  said  Sny,  "it  was  all  my  fault. 
I  ought  to  have  been  killed,  I  reckon,  for 
being  so  careless.  I  suppose  the  stableman 
will  have  no  end  of  trouble  in  getting  his  mare 
back.  The  Communists  are  apt  to  seize  her 
for  cavalry,  but  Lord  pity  the  first  man  that 
rides  her  if  she  hears  any  cannon  music !  If 
she  don't  bolt  into  the  enemy's  lines  with  him 
I  don't  want  a  cent." 

"Well,  you're  all  right,  Sny,  I  see,"  said 
Grandpa  Drubal.  "Now,  promise  us  that  as 
soon  as  you  can  be  discharged  from  the 
hospital  you  will  come  and  stay  with  us,  and 
I  will  find  you  plenty  to  do.  Perhaps  you 
would  like  to  go  away  with  us  when  we 
leave." 


176  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

"Oh,  yes!  Do,  Sny !"  said  the  boys  in 
chorus. 

"Well,  perhaps,"  said  Sny  with  a  long 
sigh,  and  closing  his  eyes  as  if  the  vision  were 
too  dazzling  to  contemplate.  Then  he  gave 
them  a  quaint  account  of  the  manner  in  which 
he  had  been  struck  down,  still  more  curious 
and  amusing  than  that  which  he  had  written 
in  his  hasty  letter. 

"And  now  you  boys  can  talk  with  Sny  five 
minutes,"  said  the  old  man,  "and  then  you 
must  go.  You  don't  want  to  talk  him  to 
death  the  first  time  you  see  him  after  he  has 
been  hit  with  a  piece  of  shell,  do  youl" 

Grandpa  Drubal  tried  to  slip  two  or  three 
gold  pieces  into  Sny's  hand,  but  the  youth 
firmly,  although  pleasantly,  declined  to  re- 
ceive them. 

"No,"  he  said,  "yon  have  been  mighty 
good  to  me,  and  I  don't  need  them  just 
now.  The  Commune  owes  me  a  residence 
here  until  I  get  well,  I  reckon.  Then,  if  you 
can  give  me  some  work  to  do  I  shall  be  glad. 
I  will  see  you  all  soon." 

As  the  trio  retired  they  noticed  a  great  stir 


SNT  IN  HOSPITAL.  177 

in  the  central  aisle  of  the  huge  tent.  A  num- 
ber of  red-faced  men,  in  gaudy  uniforms,  with 
red  sashes  about  their  waists,  were  going  from 
cot  to  cot,  occasionally  making  a  speech, 
sometimes  entering  into  conversation  with  the 
wounded,  and  pompously  displaying  much 
authority.  The  Sister  of  Charity  just  then 
happened  along  with  her  arms  full  of  band- 
ages, and  Grandpa  Drubal,  making  his  best 
bow  again,  enquired  who  these  potentates 
might  be. 

The  Sister  managed  to  make  him  under- 
stand that  they  were  a  delegation  from  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  who  had  come  to  cheer  up  the 
wounded  and  to  give  them  the  latest  news. 
While  she  was  speaking  to  his  grandfather 
Frank  saw  that  the  little  hunchback,  of  whom 
he  felt  such  a  horror,  was  moving  along  with 
the  delegates,  laughing  and  joking,  and  was 
apparently  an  important  member  of  the 
company.  A  shadow  seemed  to  fall  across 
everything  as  this  misshapen  monster  once 
more  appeared  on  his  path.  Who  and  what 
he  was  Frank  could  not  imagine.  But  he  felt 
convinced  that  he  should  see  him  again  and 
12 


178         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

that  he  would  be  associated  in  some  un- 
pleasant, and  possibly  dangerous,  manner 
with  his  own  existence.  The  hunchback  did 
not  see  Frank  this  time,  or  feigned  not  to  do 
so.  He  went  on  gesticulating  with  his  thin 
arms,  laughing,  and  apparently  furnishing 
much  amusement  to  the  overfed  and  bibulous 
looking  personages  girt  with  the  blood-red 
sashes. 

A  few  days  later,  while  Frank  and  Will 
were  walking  under  the  quaint  old  arches  in 
the  Rue  Castiglione,  they  heard  a  well-known 
step  behind  them,  and  a  cheery  voice,  which 
they  at  once  recognized  as  Sny's,  hailed  them. 
"Hold  on  till  the  invalid  catches  up,"  he 
said.  "Your  grandpa  told  me  you  were 
down  this  way,  and  I  thought  I'd  follow." 

Frank  looked  up  at  him  with  a  bright  smile, 
which  Sny  returned,  but  it  was  easy  to  see 
that  there  was  some  trouble  in  the  big  gray 
eyes. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Sny?"  said  Frank, 
after  the  first  greetings.  "Anything  hap- 
pened since  you  started  from  the  hospital ! " 


SNY   IN   HOSPITAL.  179 

"Say,  Frank,"  queried  Sny,  "did  you 
notice  anything  strange  about  my  door  last 
time  you  were  up  at  the  house?" 

"Nothing,"  said  Frank.  "The  piece  of 
paper  was  in  the  keyhole,  and  everything 
seemed  to  be  all  straight." 

"Well,"  said  the  youth,  "everything  isn't 
all  straight.  The  place  has  been  entered, 
although  the  gentleman  took  the  precaution  to 
put  the  paper  back  in  the  keyhole.  I  know 
somebody  has  been  there  and  been  rummag- 
ing about  among  my  things" — and  here  his 
voice  sank  as  if  he  were  afraid  of  being  over- 
heard. * '  What  is  more,  they  have  carried 
off  some  of  my  things,  too." 

"Well,"  said  Frank,  "it  might  be  ex- 
pected in  such  a  place  as  that.  You  ought  to 
be  down  with  us.  Can't  you  come  down  to- 
day and  bring  everything  that  is  left  with 
you  1 " 

Sny  looked  at  him  for  a  full  half  minute 
before  he  answered.  "  Why,  don't  you  see," 
he  said  slowly,  "I  don't  care  so  much  about 
what  they  have  taken,  but  in  these  times  it 
might  make  some  mischief.  I  can't  tell  yet. 


180         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

And  then  my  two  best  carrier  pigeons  are 
missing.  I  left  them  grain  enough  to  last  for 
a  month.  They  always  know  where  to  find 
water ;  but  they  are  gone.  There  has  been 
some  foul  play,  and  yet  I  can't  think  who 
could  have  taken  the  trouble  to  spy  me  out." 
And  changing  the  subject  he  began  to  tel! 
anecdotes  of  the  little  campaign  in  which  he 
had  had  so  brief  a  part,  but  Frank  could  i 
that  he  was  preoccupied. 

"Have  you  told  grandpa  what  you  have 
just  said  to  me  ? "  asked  Frank. 

"No,  don't  say  anything  to  him  about  it. 
It  don't  matter  much,  and  I  wouldn't  like 
to  worry  him  with  such  small  affairs.  But 
I'm  going  to  have  a  hunt  after  my  carrier 
pigeons,  and  I'll  have  them  back  if  I  have  to 
go  to  the  headquarters  after  them." 

Frank  did  not  know  why  at  that  moment 
the  image  of  the  little  hunchback  came  into 
his  mind,  but  it  made  him  uncomfortable 
And  they  both  came  back  to  the  hotel,  gloom- 
ily vouchsafing  no  answers  to  the  innumer 
able  questions  which  little  Will  poured  upon 
them. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   101ST  TO   THE   FRONT. 

A  MORNING  or  two  later  Grandpa  Drubal 
XJL  awoke  to  find  Frank  and  Will  pulling 
at  his  hands,  and  urging  him  to  get  up  and 
dress. 

"Jules  Raisin's  battalion  is  coming  to  the 
front  this  morning,"  said  Frank,  "and  his 
cousin  Laurette  is  here  and  wants  to  see  you." 

"Let's  see,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal  sleepily. 
"That  is  the  young  woman  that  was  here  the 
day  the  Commune  was  betrayed,  and  when 
everybody  was  in  the  depths  of  despair?" 

"Oh,  they  are  brave  enough  this  morning. 
The  regulars  surprised  a  part  of  their  forces, 
Jules  says.  But  no  great  harm  is  done  ;  they 
are  more  certain  than  ever  that  they  can  take 
Versailles." 

"Do  get  up,  grandpa,"  said  Will,  "and 
come  and  see  the  pretty  lady  with  the  cocked 
hat  on ! " 

181 


182        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Twenty  minutes  later,  when  Grandpa  Drubal 
came  forth  from  his  bedroom,  he  could  not 
repress  a  little  cry  of  admiration  for  the 
charming  cantiniere  or  mvandidre,  as  she 
was  then  called,  who  stood  before  him. 

Laurette  was  jaunty  and  bewitching  in  this 
coquettish  uniform,  which  combined  the  best 
features  of  masculine  and  feminine  apparel. 

The  voluminous  dark  skirt  which  reached 
to  the  knees  only  was  prettily  set  off  by  a 
dainty  apron.  Laurette  wore  leathern  leg- 
gings, the  ends  of  which  were  neatly  buttoned 
over  stout,  but  well-fitting,  shoes. 

Across  her  jaunty  jacket,  which  was  of  blue, 
with  a  blood-red  thread — emblem  of  the  Com- 
mune—in it,  a  tightly  rolled  blanket  was 
strapped.  At  her  left  side  was  the  little  keg 
in  which  she  carried  spirits.  On  her  head  was 
the  red  toque,  neatly  arranged. 

She  did  not  look  like  one  who  would  snatch 
the  gun  from  a  wounded  soldier  and  take  his 
place  in  the  ranks,  as  the  vivandieres  of  Na- 
poleon I.'s  time  did  now  and  then.  But  she 
was  capable  of  great  things.  She  needed  but 
the  inspiration  and  the  occasion. 


THE   101ST  TO  THE  FRONT.  183 

Citizeness  Marcelle  was  pale  as  she  took 
Laurette's  hand  and  bade  her  good-by.  "If 
you  see  my  husband  out  there,"  she  said, 
"  tell  him  to  do  his  full  duty.  And  above  all, 
no  quarter  for  the  Versaillist  prisoners." 

"No  quarter,  Marcelle!"  cried  Jules 
Raisin  ;  "  don't  you  know  that  they  would  do 
the  same  by  us  ! " 

"Never  mind,"  said  the  fierce  citizeness. 
"If  my  husband  were  to  be  the  first  to  fall  into 
their  hands,  I  still  would  say,  *  No  quarter ! ' ' 

Grandpa  Drubal  gave  many  pleasant  words 
to  Citizen  Jules  Raisin  and  to  his  charming 
cousin,  Laurette,  and  he  handed  to  the  latter 
a  few  gold  pieces  with  which  to  buy  things  for 
the  wounded. 

After  some  hesitation  Laurette  accepted, 
and  insisted  upon  kissing  everybody  all  round 
on  both  cheeks,  a  proceeding  which  worried 
Grandpa  Drubal,  and  made  Frank  blush. 

"Come  down  and  see  the  old  101st  start  for 
battle,  General  Corners,"  said  Jules  Raisin. 
"Oh,  you  can  all  come ;  there  is  no  dan- 
ger; everyone  knows  that  you  are  friends  of 
mine." 


184         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

And  the  barber-soldier  raised  his  chin  high 
in  air,  swelled  out  his  chest,  and  assumed  a 
fierce  yet  protecting  air,  as  he  preceded  the 
little  company  to  the  Place  Vendome. 

There  the  battalion  was  already  assembling. 
The  drummers  were  tightening  their  drums  : 
the  buglers  were  trying  their  bugles,  the  sol- 
diers, small,  thin,  and  sallow,  assumed  a  kind 
of  slouching  order.  Laurette  stepped  into  her 
place  behind  the  buglers.  Jules  Raisin  joined 
the  officers.  Presently  there  would  be  a  drum 
tap,  and  then  they  would  "  Mar-r-rch  on"  to 
Chatillon,  to  glory — or  to  death  ! 

"Oh,  grandpa,"  cried  Frank,  "if  we  only 
had  our  horses  saddled,  we  could  ride  to  the 
fortifications  and  see  the  battalion  as  it  passes 
out  of  the  gates !  Shall  I  run  around  to  the 
stables  and  order  them  ? " 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  let  him  go,  General  Corners  ! " 
cried  Jules  Raisin,  who  was  thinking  of  the 
additional  honor  which  he  would  reap  among 
his  comrades  if  the  American  general  "re- 
viewed his  battalion"  as  it  marched  to  the 
front.  And  Grandpa  Drubal  consented. 
.  Frank  darted  off  to  the  stables,  which  were 


THE  101ST  TO  THE  FRONT.  185 

in  the  Rue  Duphot,  not  far  away,  but  pres- 
ently he  came  back  with  a  scared  face  and 
stammered  : 

"  Oh,  grandpa !  our  horses  have  been  seized 
by  the  Commune  !  They  were  *  requisitioned 
for  service,'  the  livery  man  says :  and  if  we 
go  to  the  Ministry  of  War  and  make  a  row  we 
can  get  them  back.  Can' t  we  go  at  once  ?  I 
don't  want  to  lose  my  handsome  pony!" 

"Seized  my  horses!  Why,  dog  my  cats,  I 
reckon  we  will  go  and  find  out  what  this 
means  ! "  cried  Grandpa  Drubal.  He  had 
bought  the  horses,  paying  a  good  price  for 
them,  and  he  did  not  propose  to  lose  them  in 
this  way.  He  resolved,  if  justice  were  not 
given  him  at  the  Ministry  of  War — where 
General  Cluseret,  who  had  lived  many  years 
in  America,  was  just  then  in  power— he 
would  lay  the  matter  before  the  American 
consul,  perhaps  before  the  American  min- 
ister. 

"You  shall  not  lose  your  horses!"  cried 
Jules  Raisin.  "Oar  battalion  has  to  pass  by 
the  Ministry  of  War  to  receive  some  instruc- 
tions. We  shall  be  there  at  noon.  If  you  will 


186        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

come  there  at  the  same  time  I  will  send  a  note 
to  the  Citizen  Delegate  for  War,  telling  him 
that  he  must  see  justice  done." 

Then  the  bugles  sounded,  the  drums  beat  a 
long  roll,  the  bugles  picked  up  the  marching 
tune,  and  away  went  the  101st  battalion,  with 
the  crimson  flag  flying  and  with  the  queer 
little  soldiers  carrying  their  guns  in  every 
position  but  the  right  one. 

Grandpa  Drubal  and  Frank,  followed  by 
Citizeness  Marcelle,  carrying  Will  in  her  lean 
arms,  went  back  rather  sadly  and  slowly  to 
the  hotel. 

"Where  is  the  landlord?"  queried  the  old 
man.  "I  should  like  to  know  what  I  owe 
him." 

"Don't  trouble  yourself  about  that  bill, 
citizen,  until  the  war  of  the  Commune  is 
over,"  said  Marcelle,  with  an  uneasy  laugh. 
"The  landlord,  like  so  many  others  who  do 
not  sympathize  with  us,  has  run  away." 

"Run  away!"  said  Frank.  "Why,  who 
is  in  charge  of  the  hotel  ? " 

"  No  one.  The  servants  all  went  yesterday. 
You  will  remember  that  I  got  all  the  meals. 


THE  101ST  TO  THE  FRONT.  187 

We  are  the  only  guests  in  the  house,  and  the 
landlord  is  gone." 

"Well,  I  reckon  we  shan't  be  long  in  fol- 
lowing him,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal.  "I  can 
leave  with  you,  Citizeness  Marcelle,  money 
enough  to  cover  our  bill,  and  I  think  I  must 
get  these  boys  into  a  safer  place." 

"  But,  Grandpa  Drubal,  the  fun  is  only  just 
beginning,"  said  Frank,  growing  mournful  at 
the  thought  of  being  banished  from  the 
fighting. 

"  This  is  no  time  to  think  of  money,  citizen," 
said  Marcelle,  with  a  dark  look  on  her  melan- 
choly face.  "  Paris  may  soon  be  in  ashes  ;  its 
people  scattered  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven  ; 
its " 

"  Think  of  the  child,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal 
sharply,  pointing  to  little  Will,  who  stood 
with  his  beautiful  eyes  filled  with  .wonder, 
gazing  intently  at  Marcelle. 

"True,  true,  citizen;  I  had  forgot.  The 
child  should  not  hear  such  things 

And,  stooping  down,  she  kissed  Will  ten- 
derly on  his  broad  white  brow. 

"But,  say,   Marcelle,"  asked  Will,  "what 


188  UNDER  THE   RED  FLAG. 

do  you  mean  by  making  Paris  all  ashes  ? 
Burning  it  up  ?  " 

The  citizeness  looked  quickly  at  Grandpa 
Drubal  and  her  face  became  livid.  "  Hush, 
little  Will,"  she  said;  "Marcelle  was  only 
jesting  to  make  thee  wonder.  Come,  and  I 
will  tell  thee  a  tale  of  the  old  Revolution !" 

"Your  last  stor}^  madam,"  said  Grandpa 
Drubal  to  himself,  as  she  disappeared  with 
Will.  "These  boys  will  sleep  outside  the 
walls  of  Paris  to-night,  if  my  money  and 
strength  hold  out.  And  you  won't  be  with 
them,  either." 

At  noon,  Grandpa  Drubal  and  Frank  were 
at  the  Ministry  of  War.  The  fine,  old-fash- 
ioned  edifice,  with  its  heavy  stone  walls,  the 
windows  set  in  deep  arches,  and  its  offices, 
which  looked  like  the  ante-chambers  of  dun- 
geons, were  dirty  and  neglected. 

The  crimson  banner  floated  over  the  archway 
through  which  Frank  and  his  grandfather 
entered  the  courtyard.  One  of  the  battalions 
which  had  been  engaged  in  the  disastrous  fight 
at  Chatillon  had  just  come  in. 


THE  101ST  TO  THE  FRONT.  189 

It  was  under  suspicion  of  cowardice,  and 
the  officers  were  menaced  with  court-martial. 
General  Cluseret,  the  War  Delegate  for  the 
Commune,  had  just  been  examining  into  the 
case,  and  his  secretary,  who  spoke  good  Eng- 
lish, said  that  he  could  not  be  seen. 

"Well,  then,  go  in  and  tell  him,"  said 
Grandpa  Drubal,  drawing  himself  up  until  he 
looked  about  seven  feet  tall,  "  that  General 
Corners  will  not  consent  to  allow  his  property, 
sir,  to  be  taken  without  compensation,  sir, 
and  that  he  will  lay  the  case  before  the 
American  minister  to-day,  sir!" 

"It  would  be  of  no  use  to  tell  him  that," 
said  the  Communist  secretary  wearily;  "he 
would  not  listen ;  he  is  too  busy  and  full  of 
care.  He  may  be  arrested  himself  at  any 
moment.  The  Commune  is  suspicious  of  him, 
and  the  soldiers  think  he  is  too  severe.  See, 
he  will,  perhaps,  have  some  of  those  poor  fel- 
lows shot  for  running  away.  It  is  his  duty  ; 
but  it  will  cause  his  downfall.  Que  voulez 
vous  ?  He  is  not  dealing  with  serious  people. 
I,  who  am  an  ex-soldier  of  the  regular 
army " 


190        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"  Young  man,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal,  "I 
want  no  preachments.  I  want  them  horses, 
or  there'll  be  trouble!" 

Something  in  the  decided  tone  of  the  old 
man's  voice  seemed  to  impress  the  ex-soldier 
of  the  regular  army.  "Write  your  claim, 
citizen,"  he  said,  "and  I  will  hand  it  to 
Cluseret  myself.  If  I  come  back  without 
my  ears,  I  shall  look  to  you  for  compensa- 
tion." 

The  funn^r  French  accent  with  which  he 
said  "compensation"  set  Frank  to  laughing 
heartily.  But  the  ex-soldier  did  not  imagine 
that  anyone  was  capable  of  making  sport  of 
him.  So  he  went  away  to  General  Cluseret's 
office  with  this  note : 

General  Corners,  American  citizen,  had  two  horses 
seized  by  the  Commune  for  military  purposes  this  morn- 
ing. He  claims  that,  as  a  foreigner,  his  property  is  not 
subject  to  seizure,  and  he  wants  the  horses  returned  to 
him  post  haste. 

In  ten  minutes  an  answer  came  back  written 
on  the  margin  in  pencil  and  in  good  English  : 

Verify  Citizen  Corners's  story,  and,  when  proven, 
hand  over  the  horses  to  him  immediately. 


THE  101ST  TO  THE  FRONT.  191 

"Whoop,  Frank!"  said -Grandpa  Drnbal, 
"Victory  for  our  side!"  and  Frank  danced 
for  joy. 

"Citizen  La  Tourette  is  yonr  man  now," 
said  the  ex-soldier,  and  led  them  to  a  lean, 
lank,  cadaverous  cavalryman,  who  was  re- 
cruiting for  the  "remount."  After  some 
tedious  interpretation  Frank  and  his  grand- 
father learned  that  they  would  find  their 
horses,  the  next  day,  in  the  stable  from  which 
they  had  been  taken. 

They  thanked  the  lean  gentleman,  who  told 
them,  through  the  interpreter,  that  he  had 
deserted  from  the  regular  army,  and  was 
therefore,  certain  to  be  shot  if  captured. 
"But  it  doesn't  hurt  much,"  he  said. 
"Ping!  and— there!  it  is  all  over!  What  is 
the  use  of  thinking  about  it?" 

But  Frank  noticed  that  his  hand  trembled 
wofully  as  he  held  the  door  open  politely  for 
them. 

The  101st  had  arrived,  and  Grandpa  Drubal 
had  just  time  for  another  word  with  Jules 
Raisin  before  the  order  to  march  came. 

Laurette  was  talking  very  fast  to  Frank  as 


192         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

the  order  arrived,  and  the  boy  ran  after  Jules 
Raisin  to  ask  what  she  said. 

Jules  made  her  repeat,  and  then  replied  : 

"Laurette  says  that  if  ever  you  are  in 
any  trouble  or  danger  during  the  war  with 
Versailles,  send  for  Laurette  of  the  101st,  and 
she  will  get  you  out  of  the  scrape." 

"I  will  do  it,"  cried  Frank.  "Thank  her 
for  me  a  thousand  times  !  "  and  he  kissed  his 
hand  to  the  vivandiere,  as  he  had  seen  fine 
gentlemen  kiss  their  hands  to  ladies  on  the 
dny  of  the  panic  at  the  Triumphal  Arch. 

Laurette  saluted  him  gayly.  There  was  a 
burst  of  music,  a  little  cloud  of  dust ;  and  this 
time  the  101st  was  off  for  good.  "We  will 
capture  a  cannon  or  die,"  shouted  Jules 
Raisin.  And  he  meant  what  he  said. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

GHOST  AND  THE  SPIES. 

RANDPA  DRUBAL  had  observed  with 
some  surprise  that  each  time  the  sub- 
ject of  his  departure  from  Paris  with  the 
boys  had  been  broached  in  Sny's  presence, 
the  tall,  gaunt  youth  had  hastened  to  change 
the  subject. 

Nor  had  he  been  persuaded,  even  by  the 
many  kindly  and  urgent  invitations  of  little 
Will  and  Frank,  to  promise  that  he  would 
accompany  them  when  they  turned  their 
backs  upon  the  Commune  and  its  daily  trag- 
edies. 

At  first  the  old  man  was  inclined  to  attri- 
bute Sny's  hesitation  to  delicacy,  and  to  an 
unwillingness  to  make  himself  in  any  sense  a 
burden.  But  presently  he  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  young  man  was  in  some  way 
bound  to  remain  within  the  walls  of  Paris, 
that  he  had  a  mysterious  mission  which  he 

13  193 


194 


UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 


could  not  or  would  not  explain,  and  that  they 
could  not  count  upon  him  as  a  companion. 
Once  or  twice  he  thought  he  would  try  to 
make  this  clear  to  Frank,  but  after  a  little 
reflection  he  gave  that  up,  fearing  lest  through 
boyish  indiscretion  Frank  should  tell  Sny 
what  they  were  thinking  of  him. 

On  the  morning  after  the  departure  of  the 
101st  battalion,  Frank  observed  that  his 
grandfather  was  making  new  preparations  for 
departure,  and  he  felt  a  pang  at  his  heart 
as  he  thought  of  leaving  all  these  stirring 
scenes,  and  parting  from  the  quaint  and 
curious  Sny,  for  whom  he  was  beginning  to 
feel  almost  a  brotherly  affection. 

It  happened  that  the  whole  town  that  morn- 
ing seemed  profoundly  tranquil.  Not  even 
the  scattering  musket  fire,  to  which  they  were 
becoming  so  accustomed,  was  heard  in  the 
distance.  Thousands  of  people  were  abroad, 
saying  little,  drinking  in  the  sweet  spring  air, 
and  rapturously  enjoying  the  temporary  free- 
dom from  anxiety. 

"Grandpa  will  be  darting  off  at  an  hour's 
notice,"  said  Frank,  "after  he  has  seen 


SNY'S  GHOST  AND  THE  SPIES.  195 

consul.  I  believe  I  will  run  up  and  try  to  find 
Sny  and  make  a  final  effort  to  get  him  to  go 
away  with  us." 

Hailing  one  of  the  little  open  carriages 
coming  from  the  grand  boulevards,  Frank 
jumped  into  it,  telling  the  cabman  by  a 
gesture  to  drive  toward  Montmartre.  He  was 
beginning  now  to  know  some  French,  but  he 
found  that  the  driver  understood  his  gestures 
better  than  his  language,  and  in  what  seemed 
to  Frank  an  incredibly  short  time  they  were 
entering  the  small  square  on  the  hill.  Frank 
gave  the  driver  at  least  twice  his  proper 
fee,  jumped  down,  and  was  soon  climbing  the 
dark  stairs  polished  with  the  feet  of  the 
thousands  who  had  climbed  them  during  the 
long  generations  in  the  past.  The  house 
seemed  more  tomb-like  than  ever.  Not  a 
sound  save  the  noise  of  his  own  footsteps  was 
heard  until  he  pounded  at  Sny's  door  with  all 
his  boyish  vigor,  and  whistled  merrily  while 
waiting  an  answer.  It  was  some  minutes 
before  the  key  grated  in  the  lock ;  then  the 
great  door  swung  open,  and  Sny's  thin  face 
appeared.  The  gray  eyes  lit  up  with  a 


196        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

pleasant  smile  when  Sny  saw  who  his  visitor 
was. 

"Pop  in  quick,"  he  said.  " Three  or  four 
fellows  are  hunting  around  to  see  what 
they  can  discover  ;  they  may  break  in  here  at 
any  time.  I  have  fixed  up  a  reception  that  I 
don't  think  will  suit  them  very  well." 

Without  adding  anything  to  these  enig- 
matical words,  he  admitted  Frank,  locked  the 
door,  and  preceded  his  visitor  into  the  studio, 
which  to  Frank's  surprise  was  quite  dark. 
The  shutters  were  up  at  the  windows  which 
overlooked  Paris,  and  also  at  that  one  opening 
out  of  the  bedroom  where  Sny  kept  a  curi- 
ous array  of  chemicals,  of  books  on  mathe- 
matics, of  bottles  of  all  shapes  and  sizes,  and 
a  heap  of  mysterious  boxes. 

"Yes,"  said  Sny  rather  dryly,  drawing 
himself  up  to  his  full  height  and  looking 
down  upon  Frank  as  if  he  were  almost 
inclined  to  scold  him.  "You  just  happened 
in  at  the  wrong  time,  don't  you  see?" 

Frank  stammered  his  excuses.  "Fact  is, 
Sny,"  he  said,  "we  are  going  away,  sure,  this 
time,  and  I  have  come  to  get  you.  You  must 


SNY'S   GHOST  AND  THE  SPIES.  197 

go  with  us ;  we  can't  get  along  without  you. 
And  I  think  you  will  be  happier  with  us  than 
you  are  all  alone  here." 

Sny's  great  hands  came  together,  and  he 
wrung  one  with  the  other  carefully  for  a 
minute  or  two  as  if  he  were  moved  by 
contending  emotions.  Then  he  said,  rather 
huskily : 

"Maybe  you  think  I  wouldn't  like  to  go, 
but  you  can  just  make  your  mind  easy  about 
that.  I  would  rather  go  with  you  than  to  eat 
my  dinner,  but  fact  is  I  just  can't.  I  can't, 
and  that  settles  it.  I  can't  leave  here  at  pres- 
ent. And  I  am  bound  not  to  tell  you  why, 
either.  So  if  you  will  just  let  me  off " 

He  stopped  and  looked  at  Frank  with  a 
kind  of  appeal  in  his  eyes,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"Don't  question  me,  or  I  shall  break  down." 

Frank  would  have  scorned  the  accusation 
that  he  was  affected  by  this  simple  declara- 
tion, but  the  tears  were  nevertheless  in  his 
eyes. 

"  Well,  grandpa  will  be  dreadfully  disap- 
pointed," he  said,  "and  of  course  you  know 
we  are.  We  counted  so  much  on  having  you 


198        UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

with  us  in  England  and  Holland,  and  then  we 
have  got  to  come  back  here  to  see  about " 

Now  it  suddenly  flashed  across  his  mind 
that  he,  too,  had  a  secret,  one  which  con- 
cerned others  as  well  as  himself,  one  which 
he  could  not  divulge  to  this  strange  Sny  who 
so  appealed  to  his  sympathies — the  secret  of 
his  lost  father,  and  of  their  search  for  him. 
Yet  why  should  he  not  tell  Sny?  Perhaps 
he  might  make  of  him  an  efficient  ally  in  the 
search.  No,  he  could  not  do  that  without  con- 
sulting his  grandfather,  who  had  already  done 
so  much  for  the  children  of  his  wayward  son. 

"Yes,  I  understand,"  said  Sny.  "You 
have  got  a  secret,  too,  I  reckon.  Everybody 
has  one.  But  mine  is  not  of  any  great  conse- 
quence, only  don't  you  see,  Frank,  I  just 
can't  tell  you.  And  now  that  you  are  here,  I 
must  ask  you  again  not  to  say  anything  about 
what  you  see.  Just  see  it  and  then  forget  it. 
Is  that  a  bargain?  " 

"Of  course,"  said  Frank.  "Do  you  take 
me  for  a  spy  ? " 

"No,"  said  Sny  dryly.  "But  there  are 
spies  around.  If  you  stay  here  long  enough 


SNY'S  GHOST  AND  THE  SPIES.  199 

you  will  see  them.  And  I  just  kind  of 
reckon" — here  he  chuckled,  as  if  immensely 
amused  at  his  thoughts — '  *  that  the  spies  will 
find  something  that  will  amaze  them  very 
much.  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  it  kind  of 
tickled  their  nerves.  Now,  if  you  don't  want 
to  see  some  strange  doings,  you  just  toddle 
right  straight  back  to  the  Rue  de  Castiglione. 
But  if  you  want  to  stay,  you  must  decide 
quick — for  the  circus  is  going  to  begin." 

Frank's  eyes  twinkled  with  anticipation. 
"Can  I  stay,  Sny?"  he  said.  "It  would  be 
just  glorious  to  have  an  adventure." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  suppose  you  can  stay,"  said 
the  youth.  "  I  don't  reckon  either  of  us  will 
get  hurt.  Maybe  we  will  get  the  laugh  on  our 
visitors,  too.  But  if  anything  should  trans- 
pire, and  they  want  to  lay  hands  on  us,  you 
do  just  as  I  tell  you,  and  you  will  be  perfectly 
safe." 

"All  right,"  said  Frank.  "King  up  your 
curtain." 

"That's  the  right  spirit,"  said  Sny.  "I 
reckon  we  wasn't  born  in  the  American  woods 
to  be  scared  by  French  owls." 


200        UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

"But  what  have  you  got  it  all  darkened  up 
here  for,  Sny?  It  would  be  so  much  pleas- 
anter  to  let  in  the  spring  air;  it  is  lovely 
outside." 

"Well,  now  you  are  getting  into  a  question- 
ing mood,  Frank.  You  will  see  soon  enough 
what  this  is  for.  The  first  thing  we  have  to 
do  is  to  collect  my  birds,  and  then  to  get  up 
there."  He  pointed  with  his  long  forefinger 
to  the  ceiling. 

Frank  looked  up  in  amazement.  The  studio 
ceiling  was  very  high,  and  there  seemed  no 
way  of  reaching  it  except  by  flying. 

"Oh,  I  will  make  that  all  clear  in  due 
time,"  said  Sny.  "Just  come  with  me  now, 
and  bear  a  hand  with  the  birds." 

Frank  followed  the  youth  into  a  little 
cabinet  with  a  brick  tiled  floor,  and  with  a 
small  window  opening  into  an  inner  court. 
Here  Frank  heard  the  soft  cooing  of  the 
pigeons,  and  in  a  minute  two  or  three  of  them 
were  marching  up  to  him  in  the  bold,  aggres- 
sive manner  of  the  carrier  pigeon,  and  peck- 
ing at  his  feet  as  a  sign  that  they  wanted 
something  to  eat. 


SNY'S  GHOST  AND  THE  SPIES.  201 

"Now,"  Sny  said,  "Frank,  you  grab  two 
of  them ;  I  will  take  care  of  the  others. 
Mind  you  don't  hurt  them  ;  they  are  valuable 
property.  Never  mind  if  they  do  peck  you, 
they  won't  hurt  you.  Stuff  that  gray  one  in 
your  pocket,  he's  proof  against  accident. 
Now  take  the  other  one  more  carefully  under 
your  arm.  Can' t  afford  to  let  the  Communists 
steal  these  as  they  stole  the  others." 

While  he  was  talking,  Sny  seized  four  other 
birds  and  bestowed  them  in  his  various  capa- 
cious pockets,  none  of  them  venturing  to 
remonstrate.  Frank's  charges  were  more  diffi- 
cult, and  the  one  which  he  had  taken  under 
his  arm  pecked  furiously  at  his  bare  hand. 
Seizing  a  little  bag  of  grain  which  was  hang- 
ing from  a  nail,  Sny  said,  "  Now  we'll  go  up." 

Frank  stared,  but  followed  obediently. 
They  re-entered  the  studio,  and  in  an  angle  of 
the  wall  Sny  pressed  his  thumb  against  a 
flower  in  the  ornamental  paper.  The  door  of 
a  closet  sprang  open.  "Hurry  in,"  said  Sny. 
"  Those  fellows  may  be  here  any  moment." 

Frank  hastened  in.  The  door  closed  behind 
the  boys  with  a  click,  and  they  were  in  dark- 


202         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

ness.  An  instant  afterward  Sny  lighted  a 
match,  and,  applying  it  to  a  little  wax  taper, 
enabled  Frank  to  see  before  them  a  straight 
ladder  leading  up  into  the  recesses  of  what 
seemed  to  be  a  space  between  the  floor  above 
and  the  ceiling  of  the  studio. 

"Follow  this  ladder,"  said  Sny,  "then  turn 
to  the  right,  lie  down  and  crawl  about  ten  feet 
till  you  see  a  glimmer  of  light.  Then  wait 
for  me.  You  must  go  first,  for  I  want  to 
make  all  safe  behind." 

Frank  did  as  ordered,  using  great  care  not 
to  hurt  the  birds  as  he  squirmed  his  way 
through  the  darkness.  Presently  he  heard  a 
sound,  which  convinced  him  that  Sny  was 
pulling  up  the  ladder  behind  him.  Just  as  he 
was  beginning  to  fear  that  he  had  taken  the 
wrong  route  in  the  darkness  he  saw  a  gleam  of 
light,  and  came  out  into  quite  a  large  room, 
nearly  six  feet  high,  feebly  lighted  by  a  win- 
dow at  the  end  of  a  shaft  in  the  masonry  of 
the  wall  on  the  side  overlooking  Paris.  This 
window  evidently  had  no  glass  in  it,  for  cool 
air  came  streaming  into  the  room. 

"There,"  said  Sny,  "to  prevent  you  from 


SNY'S  GHOST  AND  THE  SPIES.         203 

asking  any  questions  I  will  just  tell  you  the 
whole  business.  Put  down  the  birds,  and 
don't  step  on  them.  Now,  I  will  shake  out 
some  grain  and  let  old  Gray  Head  and  the 
others  have  a  lunch." 

After  he  had  done  this  and  the  birds  had 
fallen  to  eating  the  grain,  as  if  a  change  of 
location  was  not  of  the  smallest  consequence 
to  them,  Sny  sat  down  cross-legged  on  the 
floor,  and  by  a  gesture  indicated  that  Frank 
was  to  do  the  same. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  we  are  quite  comfortable 
here.  This  place,  as  you  can  see,  is  a  refuge. 
It  was  built  during  some  old  dangerous 
period,  and,  I  suppose,  it  is  easy  for  you 
to  see  that  it  has  been  occupied  lately. 
Whether  or  not  the  men  who  hid  themselves 
here  in  old  times  liked  it  or  not  I  can't  say, 
but  I  have  found  it  very  convenient.  In  fact, 
the  birds  and  I  feel  at  home  here." 

"Yes,  but,  Sny,"  said  the  bewildered 
Frank,  "  what,  in  the  name  of  common 
sense,  is  the  need  of  your  hiding?  If  you 
would  go  with  us  you  wouldn't  have  any  such 
adventures." 


204         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

Sny  extended  his  long  hand  and  placed 
it  on  Frank's  shoulder.  "Well,  now,"  he 
said  slowly,  with  his  Western  drawl,  "we 
have  settled  all  that  down  below.  You 
agreed 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Frank.  "Ask  no 
questions.  Go  ahead:  get  up  your 
adventure." 

"That's  the  way  to  talk,"  said  Sny. 
"Now,  sit  here  and  don't  move,  and  let  me 
show  you  something." 

He  reached  to  the  side  of  the  wall  near 
which  he  was  sitting  and  pulled  a  cord.  To 
Frank's  astonishment,  a  little  door  opened 
at  their  feet,  leaving  an  aperture  perhaps 
fifteen  inches  wide  and  nearly  as  long,  show- 
ing them  the  interior  of  the  studio  below. 
"You  see  we  are  in  communication,"  said 
Sny.  He  pulled  another  cord  and  the  door 
shut  softly.  Then  he  stooped  down  and 
opened  a  tiny  trap  in  this  door.  "Just 
apply  your  eye  there,"  said  Sny.  And  Frank 
saw  that  through  this  he  could  observe  he 
studio  below  while  the  door  was  shut. 

"Oh,  the  man  that  built  this  observed  all 


SNY'S   GHOST   AND  THE  SPIES.  205 

his  precautions,  as  the  police  say,"  said  Sny. 
"And  yet  I  don't  reckon  he  was  doing  any- 
thing wrong ;  but  you  have  to  be  powerful 
careful  in  war  times." 

"  Yes,"  said  Frank,  beginning  to  feel  as  if 
he  were  the  hero  of  a  fairy  tale. 

"Now,"  said  Sn}r,  "I  told  you  my  domicile 
had  been  invaded,  didn'  t  I  ?  Two  or  three 
gentlemen  connected  with  the  Commune 
seemed  to  be  anxious  to  know  what  I  kept 
up  here  on  the  hill.  They  found  some  things 
the  other  day,  but  I  reckon  they  won't  be 
able  to  read  them.  And  I  have  put  the  rest 
of  my  private  documents  where  they  won't  be 
likely  to  find  them  before  the  war  is  over." 
Sny  chuckled  softly  to  himself.  "But  as  I 
have  learned  from  certain  sources" — he  spoke 
as  ceremoniously  as  if  he  were  dictating  a 
state  document — "  that  they  think  of  paying 
me  another  visit  to-day  about  this  time,  I 
'lowed  that  I  would  have  some  fun  with  them, 
and  I  am  glad  you  are  here  to  share  in  it. 
What  do  you  think  of  this,  now,  for  a 
project?" 

And,  holding  up  the  wax  taper  that  Frank 


206        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

might  see  more  plainly,  he  showed  the  boy  a 
skeleton,  enveloped  in  a  white  sheet,  all  but 
the  skull,  the  eye-sockets  of  which  were  filled 
with  green  glass  globes,  which  in  the  darkness 
sent  forth  a  grisly  and  terrifying  light.  This 
skeleton  was  hanging  from  a  wire  attached  to 
a  pulley  set  in  a  little  socket  directly  over  the 
door  in  the  ceiling  of  the  studio. 

"What  on  earth  is  that?"  said  Frank. 
"Where  did  you  get  such  a  ghost-like  looking 
thing?" 

"  Skeleton,"  said  Sny  concisely.  "  Bought 
it  at  a  sale  in  an  old  curiosity  shop  over  back 
of  Montmartre  last  winter.  Got  it  for  five 
francs.  It  will  be  uncommon  useful  to-day." 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean  to  do  with  it  ? " 

"Well,"  said  Sny,  chuckling  again,  "when 
I  hear  the  door  open,  and  the  fellows  come  in 
below,  and  before  they  have  a  chance  to  undo 
the  shutters,  we'll  just  lower  this  gentleman 
down  toward  them,  and  I'll  take  the  responsi- 
bility of  giving  two  or  three  graveyard  groans 
that  they  won't  forget  in  a  hurry.  If  they 
stay  to  hunt  for  any  more  of  my  papers,  I  have 
got  another  scheme.  But  that's  a  little  more 


SNY' 8  GHOST  AND  THE  SPIES.  207 

risky,"  he  added.  "  I  think  the  ghost  busi- 
ness is  the  safest." 

Frank  laughed  so  loudly  that  Sny  clapped 
his  hand  over  the  boy's  mouth,  "Steady," 
he  said.  "  We  must  not  let  them  find  out 
that  we  are  up  here.  This  is  our  retreat  in 
time  of  need." 

"Are  you  safe  here  from  them,  Sny  ?"  said 
Frank  anxiously. 

"Oh,  yes,  they  couldn't  find  me  here  in  six 
months.  Besides,  there  is  a  way  out  that  I 
haven't  told  you  of." 

"But  you  would  have  to  go  out  some  time 
or  other,  Sny,  and  then  they  might  be  watch- 
ing for  you  in  all  directions." 

"Not  in  the  one  that  I  should  take,"  said 
Sny,  with  such  an  air  of  confidence  that  Frank 
pushed  the  matter  no  farther.  After  a  little 
Sny  pulled  up  the  door,  and  lying  down  so 
that  he  could  look  in  all  directions  in  the 
studio,  he  seemed  to  forget  Frank's  presence 
and  to  be  concentrated  on  his  watch  for  the 
enemy's  appearance.  At  the  end  of  five  min- 
utes he  looked  up. 

"They  generally  get    around    here    about 


208         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

eleven,"  said  Sny.  "  I  think  they  believe  I  am 
always  out  then,  and  they  will  make  a  visit 
in  a  few  minutes  if  they  are  coming.  It  must 
be  on  the  stroke  of  eleven  now." 

"It  was  long  after  ten  when  I  started  up 
here,"  said  Frank. 

"  Yes,"  said  Sny.  "  Hush  !  I  can  hear  the 
door.  They  are  coming.  Now  do  just  as  I 
tell  you.  Now,  where  in  the  name  of  time 
did  they  get  a  false  key  to  my  rooms? 
Sh-h !  Hear  them  !  Lie  down  flat,  Frank, 
and  take  a  look.  Hold  your  breath  and 
don't  speak  to  me.  For  that  matter,  you 
can't  speak  if  you  hold  your  breath." 

Frank  felt  that  he  was  at  last  engaged  in  a 
real  adventure.  What  would  Grandpa  Dru- 
bal  have  said  had  he  known  that  his  grand- 
son was  hidden  in  a  secret  apartment,  in  a 
gloomy  old  mansion  on  the  height  of  Mont- 
martre  with  the  adventurous  Sny,  and  with 
some  prospect  of  a  lively  encounter  with  ene- 
mies whom  neither  of  them  had  ever  seen? 

Despite  Sny's  injunction  to  hold  his  breath, 
Frank  breathed  heavily,  and  could  hardly 
refrain  from  shouting  when  he  heard  steps  in 


SNY'S   GHOST   AND   THE  SPIES.  209 

the  anteroom,  and  saw  two  figures  suddenly 
come  out  of  the  door  and  stand  gazing  at 
the  darkened  studio,  talking  in  low  voices 
to  each  other. 

Sny  gave  Frank  a  precautionary  pinch, 
then  put  his  mouth  close  to  the  boy's  ear 
and  whispered  gently,  "Now  I  am  going  to 
let  down  the  ghost  and  groan.  I  will  do  a 
big  bass  groan,  and  you  join  in  with  a  treble 
one.  Mind  you  don't  laugh.  If  you  do, 
we  are  perhaps  in  for  six  months  in  prison. 
Remember  now  1 " 

Sny  rose  up  and  reached  a  cord  which 
Frank  had  not  before  observed,  and  slowly 
lowered  the  skeleton  to  the  open  door  in 
the  floor,  pulled  its  extemporized  draperies 
around  it  so  it  would  pass  through,  and 
then  in  silence  let  it  down,  down,  down, 
until  it  was  within  six  or  seven  feet  of  the 
floor.  Then  pulling  it  up  a  little,  and  letting 
it  waver  down  once  more,  he  uttered  a  heart- 
rending groan  suggestive  of  graveyards  at 
midnight  and  of  mystic  houses  haunted  by 
the  secret  of  some  hideous  crime. 

Frank  wanted  to  laugh,   but  he  felt  that 

14 


210         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

he  would  be  endangered  by  doing  so,  so  he 
straightened  his  face  and  groaned  in  such 
piteous  feminine  fashion,  ending  with  a  little 
shriek  of  terror,  that  Sny  patted  him  on  the 
back  and  whispered,  "  Good  boy  1 " 

The  two  conspirators,  Sny  holding  the  cord 
so  that  he  could  pull  up  the  ghost  at  an 
instant's  notice,  lay  down  and  carefully  ob- 
served the  scene  in  the  room  below. 

After  muttering  something  which  was  prob- 
ably an  exclamation  of  surprise  at  the  dark- 
ened room,  one  of  the  intruders  was  moving 
over  to  the  windows  to  open  the  blinds,  when 
a  loud  shriek  from  his  companion  caused  him 
to  look  hastily  around  and  to  see  the  ghost. 

As  soon  as  Sny  was  sure  that  the  attention 
of  both  was  engaged  by  this  spectre,  he  let  it 
dance  slowly  up  and  down  in  the  air,  and  at 
regular  intervals  again  emitted  the  groans. 

The  two  men  stood  gazing  at  each  other, 
pointing  at  the  ghost  and  at  the  flames  in  its 
eyes;  then,  without  uttering  a  word,  they 
turned  and  rushed  from  the  room,  and  the 
clatter  of  their  heels  resounded  on  the  loose 
boarding  of  the  anteroom. 


SNY'S  GHOST  AND  THE  SPIES.  211 

Frank  felt  Sny's  big  Land  upon  his  back. 
"Don't  laugh  yet,  Frank,"  he  said,  "or 
you'll  spoil  everything.  They  might  get  their 
courage  back,  you  know  ;  and  then  again  they 
might  leave  the  door  open  as  they  ran  away 
and  somebody  else  might  come  in.  We  must 
be  cautious." 

In  complete  silence  they  waited  at  least  ten 
minutes  for  the  result  of  their  manoeuvre. 
Presently  Sny  said:  "Now,  I'll  pull  up  the 
ghost,  close  the  door,  leave  you  here,  and  go 
down  and  reconnoitre." 

"All  right,"  said  Frank,  bursting  into  a 
genuine  laugh,  which  he  felt  it  was  useless 
longer  to  try  to  control.  "I  will  stay  here 
with  the  birds,  and  you  be  careful  not  to  get 
caught  now,  Sny,  or  I  might  never  be  able  to 
get  out  of  here." 

Sny,  who  was  just  shutting  the  door,  after 
putting  the  ghost  back  on  his  airy  perch, 
turned  and  looked  at  Frank. 

"That's  so,"  he  said;  "there  might  be  an 
ambush,  and  here  you  would  be  not  knowing 
the  way  out.  What  a  fool  I  am !  Yes,  we 
must  go  down  together  and  take  the  chance. 


212         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

Leave  the  birds  here;  I  will  attend  to  them 
later." 

The  return  journey  to  the  studio  was  accom- 
plished without  accident.  A  secret  spring 
opened  the  door  from  the  little  closet  on  the 
inside  in  the  same  way  as  from  the  outside. 
Frank  was  not  sorry  to  find  himself  back  in 
the  large  room,  but  it  was  with  a  beating  heart 
that  he  awaited  the  result  of  Sny's  visit  to  the 
doorway.  There  was  no  ambush ;  the  fright 
had  been  genuine.  The  spies  had  fled,  and 
had  forgotten  to  close  the  door  behind  them. 

After  locking  the  door  and  replacing  the 
paper  in  the  keyhole,  Sny  hailed  Frank. 
"That  was  a  good  ghost,"  he  said;  "it  has 
done  the  work.  Now  help  me  to  put  this  big 
bar  against  the  door,  so  we  cannot  be  inter- 
rupted for  half  an  hour,  and  at  the  end  of 
that  time  I  defy  them  to  find  out  anything 
about  me." 

Frank  did  as  he  was  requested.  Then 
under  Sny's  orders  he  helped  to  convey 
various  mysterious  packages  into  the  secret 
passage,  and  from  thence  into  the  room 
between  the  two  floors. 


SNY'S  GHOST  AND  THE  SPIES.         213 

An  hour  later,  perspiring  but  triumphant, 
Sny  threw  himself  into  an  old  armchair  in 
the  studio,  and,  looking  at  Frank  with  a  glee- 
ful expression,  said  :  "Now  we  can  take  away 
the  bar,  unlock  the  outer  door,  and  then  the 
whole  official  Commune  is  welcome  to  come 
in.  It  never  can  find  what  we  have  laid  away. 
But  I  don't  reckon  they'll  ever  come  back. 
Perhaps  they  will  send  some  of  their  com- 
rades in  the  hopes  that  they  may  get  a  visit 
from  the  ghost.  We  must  think  about  that. 
And  now  since  the  coast  is  a  little  clearer,  we 
can  go  down  and  see  your  grandpa,  and  I'll 
get  him  to  let  me  off  from  going  with  you, 
because  I  can't,  I  really  can't,  you  know." 

"  I  hope  you  have  not  got  to  live  up  in  that 
hole  much  of  the  time,  Sny,"  said  Frank, 
whose  little  adventure  had  not  heightened  his 
appetite  for  burrowing  between  the  walls  of 
ancient  mansions. 

"  Oh,  there  are  many  worse  places  than 
that;"  said  Sny,  "and  the  great  thing  is, 
when  you  are  trying  to  do  something,  to  carry 

it  out "  Here  he  bit  his  lips,  and  seemed 

to  regret  having  said  so  much.  "Let's  just 


214         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

forget  all  about  it  now,"  he  said;  "and,  of 
course,  you  will  not  let  it  go  any  further, 
Frank." 

Frank  thought  how  delightful  it  would  be 
to  tell  little  Will  the  story,  and  of  the  many 
questions  the  little  fellow  would  bring  to  bear 
upon  him  if  he  could  tell.  But  there  was 
something  delightful  in  the  fact  that  he  could 
not,  and  he  consoled  himself  with  that  every 
time  during  the  next  two  or  three  days  that 
he  was  tempted  to  recite  the  tale  to  his  small 
brother. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  BLOW  FROM  THE  DARK. 

IT  was  half-past  two  before  Grandpa  Drnbal 
and  Frank  were  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
American  consulate.  Everything  which  the 
old  man  had  seen  that  day  had  determined 
him  to  remove  the  two  boys  from  Paris  at 
once. 

But  first  he  would  see  the  consul  and  tell 
him  his  story,  that  search  for  his  son  might 
go  on,  in  case  he  were  not  able  to  return  to 
Paris. 

A  chill  fell  upon  his  heart  when  the 
pleasant-voiced  servant  at  the  consulate  door 
told  him  that  the  consul  had  not  been  at  his 
office  that  day,  and  would  not  be  there  until 
late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day.  It 
seemed  as  if  fate  were  conspiring  against 
Grandpa  Dmbal. 

He  took  a  sudden  resolve.  He  would  drive 
to  the  consul's  house  in  the  hope  of  finding 

215 


216         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAO. 

him  there.  If  that  failed,  he  would  go  to  the 
minister.  Meantime  Frank  could  remain 
with  Marcelle  and  Will. 

He  hailed  an  open  carriage.  The  Commune 
had  not  yet  laid  its  paralyzing  paw  upon  the 
Jehus  of  the  capital. 

"I  must  see  the  consul  at  his  house, 
Frank ;  but,  first,  I  will  take  you  home  to 
the  hotel.  Jump  in.  You  must  look  after 
Will  till  I  come  back." 

"All  right,  grandpa;  I'll  see  that  he  gets 
into  no  mischief.  But  I  would  rather  walk 
home.  I  know  the  way,  and  it  isn't  five 
minutes'  walk." 

"But,  Frank,  these  are  dangerous  times, 
and  if  anything  should  happen " 

"  You  know,  Grandpa  Drubal,  that  no  one 
will  even  look  at  me.  Don' t  be  gone  long,  for 
it's  lonesome  without  you,  and  Marcelle  tells 
such  creepy  stories." 

So  he  darted  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
hotel,  with  the  sublime  confidence  of  boyhood 
that  everything  will  come  out  all  right,  and 
Grandpa  Drubal,  writing  out  the  home  ad- 
dress of  the  consul,  which  he  had  obtained 


THE  BLOW  FROM  THE  DARK.      217 

from  the  pleasant-voiced  servant,  showed  it  to 
the  cocfier,  who  grinned,  and  soon  whirled 
the  old  man  out  of  sight  of  his  grandson. 

When  Frank  reached  the  main  boulevards 
and  tried  to  cross  there,  on  his  way  back  to 
the  Rue  de  la  Paix  and  the  Place  Vendome, 
he  found  his  route  blocked  by  a  monster 
funeral  procession. 

Several  high  officers  and  many  soldiers  of 
the  "Federated  National  Guard''  had  fallen 
in  the  fight  at  Chatillon,  and  the  Commune 
had  decided  to  give  them  a  splendid  funeral, 
cunningly  planning  it  so  that  it  should  be  a 
demonstration  before  the  eyes  of  the  hostile 
"aristos"  of  the  strength  of  the  insurrection. 

The  Commune  disdained  religious  services, 
and  would  not  have  its  dead  taken  into  a 
church.  A  memorial  meeting,  with  fiery 
speeches,  which  breathed  forth  vengeance, 
was  held  at  the  Beaujon  Hospital,  where  the 
dead  had  been  brought. 

Then  the  most  richly  decorated  hearses  of 
the  great  company  of  the  Pompes  Funebres — 
the  wholesale  funeral  establishment  which 
undertakes  to  bury  you  in  pomp  for  six  thou- 


218         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

sand  francs  or  in  poverty  for  six  francs  and 
a  half — were  requisitioned,  and  in  these  the 
bodies  of  sixty  of  the  slain  soldiers  and 
officers  were  placed. 

Thousands  of  soldiers  followed  these  stately 
funeral  cars  as  they  descended  the  steep  hill 
from  the  Beaujon  Hospital,  and  wound  their 
way  into  and  along  the  central  boulevards. 

Tens  of  thousands  of  spectators  at  windows, 
under  cafe  awnings,  in  carriages,  had  gathered 
to  witness  the  procession. 

They  understood  the  Commune's  declara- 
tion of  its  force,  and  their  faces  grew  hard 
and  grim  as  the  great  corps  of  trumpeters 
preceding  the  cars  played  solemn  airs. 

The  mockery  of  the  irreligious  funeral 
appalled  them,  but  they  dared  not  cry  out 
against  it. 

After  the  procession  had  passed  there  was  a 
blockade  of  carriages  and  military  transpor- 
tation wagons,  and  it  was  half  an  hour 
before  Frank  could  safely  make  his  way 
across  the  boulevard. 

Running  head  down,  and  dodging  in  and 
out  among  the  teams,  he  did  not  notice  that 


THE   BLOW  FROM  THE  DAKK.  219 

he  had  entered  a  street  which  led  him  away 
from,  rather  than  into,  the  Rne  de  la  Paix  and 
the  Place  Vendome. 

Alarmed  at  the  long  delay,  and  fearing  that 
Grandpa  Drubal  would  get  home  first  and 
hunt  for  him,  he  ran  briskly  forward.  Pres- 
ently he  came  to  a  stone  staircase  which  led 
into  a  narrow  alley.  He  fancied  that  beyond 
this  he  saw  the  top  of  the  Column  Vendome, 
and  bounded  on  ;  but  soon  he  saw  that  he  was 
mistaken. 

After  wandering  in  a  labyrinth  of  dark  and 
gloomy  streets  for  some  time  and  growing 
faint  with  vexation  and  fatigue,  and  alarmed 
at  the  ominous  glances  cast  at  him,  he  came 
upon  a  square  in  which  stood  two  handsome 
market  pavilions. 

He  crossed  the  square,  entered  another 
winding  street,  came  to  a  church,  and  find- 
ing a  side  door,  level  with  the  street,  swinging 
open,  he  went  in  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  few 
minutes'  rest  and  collecting  his  scattered 
senses. 

A  furious  yell  startled  him  as  he  entered. 
He  looked  up  in  amazement,  and  saw  that 


220        UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

several  hundred  females,  dressed  like  market- 
women,  were  applauding  a  red-faced  man  in 
uniform  who  stood  in  a  sculptured  pulpit  high 
up  above  their  heads,  and  was  wildly  ranting. 

Meantime,  Grandpa  Drubal,  having  learned 
that  the  consul  had  gone  with  the  minister  on 
some  official  errand  to  the  Prussian  lines,  and 
that  neither  could  be  seen  in  Paris  for  at  least 
two  days,  returned,  rather  dejectedly,  in  his 
carriage  to  the  boulevards. 

There  he,  too,  was  delayed  for  a  long  time. 
Dismissing  his  carriage,  he  managed  to  get 
into  the  Rue  de  Castiglione  by  a  wide  circuit. 
The  Place  Vendome  was  newly  barricaded — a 
bit  of  preparation  which  struck  him  as  indi- 
cating that  a  battle  was  at  hand. 

As  he  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  hotel,  he 
was  surprised  to  find  the  office  where  the  con- 
cierges or  janitors  usually  sit  occupied  by  a 
party  of  soldiers,  who  were  playing  at  cards 
and  drinking  red  wine. 

Their  backs  were  turned  to  him.  A  fear 
seized  upon  him  as  he  went  hastily  up  the 
stairs  to  the  dining-room,  from  which  came 


THE  BLOW   FROM  THE  DARK.  221 

sounds  of  ribald  laughter,  of  songs  and 
dancing. 

Grandpa  Drubal  stopped  in  astonishment. 
Had  he  made  a  mistake  in  the  entrance  ? 
Surely  there  were  no  soldiers  quartered  there 
when  he  left.  Now  the  house  was  full  of  them ! 
He  saw  a  Phrygian  cap,  and  heard  the  clink 
of  a  sabre  on  the  stairs  above.  Had  the  sol- 
diers seized  his  apartments  also  ?  Where  were 
Marcelle  and  Will  and  Frank  ? 

He  called  Frank's  name  loudly  twice.  No 
answer.  Then  he  called,  "  Will,  Will !  where 
are  you  ? " 

No  answer.  Nothing  but  the  jingling  of 
spurs  and  the  sound  of  hoarse  voices. 

The  old  man's  limbs  trembled  as  he  reached 
the  door  of  his  own  apartments  on  the  third 
floor  and  rang  the  bell.  Surely  Will  would 
come  bounding  to  meet  him ! 

There  was  a  long  delay.  At  last  the  door 
was  opened  by  a  sleepy-looking  soldier  who 
smelled  of  wine  and  onions,  and  who,  when 
Grandpa  Drubal  pushed  past  him,  caught 
him  with  one  dirty  claw  and  tried  to  hold 
him. 


222        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

But  Grandpa  Drubal  brushed  him  off  as  if 
he  were  a  fly. 

When  he  reached  his  own  bedroom  he  at 
first  refused  to  believe  the  evidence  of  his 
senses.  There  on  his  bed  lay  three  drunken 
soldiers,  snoring  in  concert !  Half  a  dozen 
others  were  on  the  floor  in  various  attitudes 
indicative  of  extreme  fatigue.  One  of  them 
had  his  head  bound  up  with  a  blood-stained 
rag. 

"  Eli  ben  !  Quoi  qu'il  veut,  ce  chameau  de 
citoyen  la?"  said  the  soldier  who  had  ad- 
mitted him,  balancing  himself  drunkenly  on 
his  feet.  "Another  inspector — or  what? 
Can't  he  let  honest  soldiers  of  the  Com- 
mune sleep  in  peace,  after  three  days  of 
hard  fighting.  Allans  !  You're  not  wanted 
here.  Get  out!" 

Grandpa  Drubal,  as  the  soldier  approached 
him,  put  out  his  elbow  and  shot  the  poor 
wretch  against  the  wall  in  a  heap. 

"Will!  "he  cried,  in  a  despairing  voice. 
"Will!  Frank!  Marcelle!" 

He  wandered  through  the  five  rooms  in  the 
suite,  but  not  a  trace  of  Marcelle  or  of  Will 


THE  BLOW  FROM  THE  DARK.      223 

or  Frank,  of  the  baggage  or  clothing,  or  of 
anything  save  his  large  trunk,  which  had  been 
opened,  and  in  which  his  things  were  tossed 
about  in  confusion,  was  to  be  found. 

They  were  gone  !  Had  Marcelle  fled  and 
taken  Will  with  her  ? 

He  leaned  against  the  wall  and  tried  to 
think.  The  drunken  soldier  had  recovered 
his  balance,  and  was  approaching  him  with  a 
pistol  in  his  hand. 

Grandpa  Drubal  struck  down  the  pistol, 
felled  the  soldier  with  a  terrible  blow,  and 
staggered  out  upon  the  stairway,  still  crying, 
hoarsely  : 

"Will  I    Marcelle!    Frank  I" 

No  answer. 

Perhaps  they  were  in  the  dining-room. 
Yes,  yes,  that  must  be  it.  As  there  were  no 
servants  in  the  house,  Marcelle  had  been  com- 
pelled to  wait  upon  the  soldiers,  and  she  had 
taken  Will  with  her  to  keep  him  in  safety. 

He  burst  open  the  doors  of  the  dining-room, 
and  strode  in. 

A  party  of  soldiers  had  cleared  away  the 
tables  and  was  dancing  en  ronde,  a  rude  sort 


224        UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

of  country  dance,  and  singing  in  unison  with 
the  measured  beat  of  their  heels  on  the  pol- 
ished wood  of  the  floor. 

The  air  was  heavy  with  the  smell  of  wine 
and  tobacco  and  spirits.  Two  drunken  men 
were  stretched  on  the  floor  in  a  corner. 

"Will!  Marcelle!  Frank!"  cried  Grandpa 
Drubal.  And  his  heart  sank  within  him. 
They  were  gone,  gone ! 

A  soldier,  whose  eyes  were  heavy  with 
liquor,  caught  Grandpa  Drubal  by  the  shoul- 
der and  pushed  him  toward  the  ring  of 
dancers. 

It  opened  to  receive  him,  then  closed  again, 
while  the  men  continued  the  rude  dance, 
shouting  like  demons. 

Grandpa  Drubal  threw  up  his  hands ;  his 
legs  gave  way  ;  he  fell  heavily  forward. 

One  of  the  soldiers  picked  him  up  and  put 
him  on  a  chair.  His  head  drooped  ;  he  had 
fainted. 

But  the  dance  went  on,  with  more  stamping 
and  shouting  than  before. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A   FRIEND   IN   NEED. 

THE  gloom  in  the  corner  of  the  church 
where  Frank  stood  was  so  great,  by  con- 
trast with  the  keen  light  of  the  street  from 
which  he  had  just  come,  that  he  fancied  him- 
self unseen  by  the  throng  of  menacing  old 
women  moving  to  and  fro  in  front  of  the 
carved  pulpit.  He  felt  a  sense  of  security  in 
this  surrounding  darkness,  and,  in  spite  of  his 
woful  position,  the  curiosity  of  a  lively  boy 
asserted  itself,  and  he  studied  the  singular 
scene  with  interest. 

Evidently  this  was  not  a  crowd  of  wor- 
shippers. Although  Frank  understood  but 
little  that  was  said,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  the 
men  and  women  were  agitated  by  violent  pas- 
sion ;  that  their  speech  was  angry  and  pro- 
fane; that  there  was  no  reverence  in  their 
mood.  The  red- faced  man  in  slouching  uni- 
form, who  leaned  upon  the  exquisitely  carved 

15  225 


226        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

wooden  rail  of  the  pulpit,  seemed  excited  with 
drink.  His  voice  was  thick  and  husky.  His 
gestures  were  fevered  and  violent,  and  now 
and  then  what  seemed  to  be  a  sally  of  coarse 
wit  brought  out  a  rude  laugh  from  the 
creatures  gathered  below. 

And  what  creatures  they  were !  The  women 
of  the  Central  Markets,  the  great  Halles 
where  Paris  goes  for  its  daily  provisions,  a 
delegation  evidently  recruited  from  the  lower 
orders  of  these  market-women.  As  they 
stood  with  their  brawny  arms  akimbo,  their 
flushed  faces  working  with  the  excitement  of 
the  occasion,  and  one  or  two  of  them  with 
cigarettes  at  their  lips,  Prank  thought  he  had 
never  before  seen  so  strange  and  repulsive  a 
company.  They  raved,  they  shouted,  they 
screamed  in  concert ;  they  stamped  their  feet 
and  shook  their  hands  high  in  the  air  when 
the  red-faced  man  poured  down  upon  them 
the  torrent  of  his  eloquence,  which  seemed  to 
be  of  a  political  turn. 

Long  slanting  rays  of  the  summer  sunshine 
fell  through  the  high  windows  at  the  back  of 
the  church,  and  made  a  kind  of  subdued  glory 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED.  227 

around  the  marble  figures  on  the  altar ;  but 
there  was  no  priest  to  be  seen  in  the  whole 
edifice  ;  no  kneeling  figures  bowed  their  heads 
at  the  entrance  of  the  chapels,  and  no  pious 
hum  of  worship  could  be  heard  in  any  corner. 

Prank  had  stumbled  into  one  of  the  famous 
" clubs"  of  the  Commune,  and  was  at  that 
moment  listening,  although  he  had  but  a  dim 
notion  of  it,  to  a  violent  harangue  against  the 
leaders  of  the  insurrection,  in  which  the  red- 
faced  man  was  proposing  to  the  women  of  the 
Halles  that  they  should  march  to  the  Hotel 
de  Ville  and  expel  from  their  office  the  incom- 
petents who  had  failed  to  gain  victory  in  the 
recent  battles  around  Paris. 

These  clubs  were  the  centres  of  most  of  the 
stormy  discussions  which  finally  brought 
about  the  worst  outrages  of  the  'Commune. 
No  sooner  was  the  great  insurrection  in  full 
blast  than  the  churches  were  closed  to  public 
worship,  and  throughout  the  great  city  every 
quarter  had  in  a  church  its  club  modelled 
after  those  of  the  old  Revolution,  and  quite 
capable  of  repeating  the  cruelties  which  dis- 
graced the  city  in  1793. 


228        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Many  of  the  orators  in  these  clubs  were 
simple  laborers  with  no  education,  and  with 
entirely  original  views  of  government  and 
society.  Their  chief  and  constant  demand 
was  that  wine  and  food  should  be  cheaper,  if 
not  entirely  free,  to  the  laboring  masses,  and 
their  most  ardent  desire  was  that  the  rich 
should  be  made  to  give  up  their  possessions, 
and  possibly  their  lives. 

Frank's  quick  wit  showed  him  that  some- 
thing of  this  kind  was  going  on.  He  had 
seen  the  wild  gestures,  the  fiery  looks,  and 
heard  the  loud-mouthed  declamation  of  these 
leaders  of  the  insurrection  often  enough,  and 
made  up  his  mind  that  this  meeting  was  no 
place  for  him.  Just  as  the  women  were 
shouting  and  shrieking  in  most  unearthly 
tones  at  some  more  than  usually  wild  state- 
ment of  the  orator,  Frank  stepped  out  from 
the  dark  shadow  of  his  corner,  and  was  steal- 
ing lightly  toward  the  door,  still  gazing  back- 
ward at  the  company,  when  he  ran  into  the 
arms  of  a  huge  virago,  who  first  boxed  his 
ears  for  his  blunder,  and  then  seized  him  by 
the  collar,  taking  a  sharp  look  at  him,  after 


A  FRIEND   IN   NEED.  229 

which  she  dragged  him,  with  a  force  which  he 
could  not  resist,  toward  the  centre  of  the 
meeting. 

Frank  felt  that  the  moment  for  a  supreme 
effort  had  come.  His  blood  boiled  at  the 
thought  that  he  was  not  strong  enough  to  get 
away  from  this  old  harpy,  whose  clutch  be- 
came each  instant  more  hateful  to  him.  He 
made  one  tremendous  bound,  almost  flooring 
his  captor,  but  at  this  the  woman  set  up  a 
loud  yell,  which  at  once  brought  half  a  dozen 
companions  around  her,  each  one  contributing 
her  shouts  of  surprise  and  laughter  to  the 
general  hubbub. 

"What  have  you  got  here,  Manon?"  said 
one  of  the  women,  catching  Frank  by  the  chin 
and  turning  his  face  up  to  the  light.  "A 
pretty  boy,  as  I'm  alive.  Is  he  yours?" 

At  this  question  the  laughter  was  resumed 
with  such  violence  that  for  half  a  minute 
nothing  else  could  be  heard,  but  when  it  fell 
away,  Manon' s  voice  shrilly  said : 

"What  have  I  found?  A  spy,  I  think. 
The  little  wretch  tried  to  run  over  me  as  if  he 
had  been  a  coach  and  four,  but  I  soon  stopped 


230        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

that.  A  spy,  I  tell  you  !  Look  at  him  ;  he's 
no  Frenchman!  Why,  the  color  in  his  cheeks 
alone  would  betray  him  for  a  Prussian  1 " 

Manon  gave  Frank  a  new  shaking,  so  much 
more  vigorous  than  the  first  one  that  the  boy 
began  to  be  afraid  his  head  would  fall  off. 
He  revolted  in  earnest  now. 

"  Let  me  go ;  let  me  go,  you  old  thing  1 "  he 
cried.  "I  never  saw  you  before  and  I  never 
want  to  see  you  again !  Let  me  go  ;  I  want  to 
go  home ! " 

This  time  he  struggled  so  fiercely  that  he 
wrenched  Manon's  hand  from  his  collar. 

" See  !  see !  "  cried  the  woman  ;  "he  talks 
German  to  us.  He  has  the  audacity  to  talk 
his  filthy  language  to  us  ! "  and  she  stretched 
forth  a  fist,  red  from  constant  immersion  in 
cold  water,— for  she  was  a  fishwife,— and 
shook  it  in  the  boy's  face. 

Frank  had  caught  the  word  "Prussian," 
which  he  had  heard  so  often  of  late  that  it 
was  not  difficult  to  distinguish  it  in  French, 
and  he  began  to  appreciate  the  gravity  of  his 
situation.  For  in  those  days  to  be  accused  as 
a  Prussian  spy  was  to  be  in  deadly  peril ;  in 


A   FRIEND   IN   NEED.  231 

danger,  perhaps,  of  being  hanged  at  the  first 
lamp-post,  with  twenty  infuriated  creatures 
yelling  at  one's  feet ;  or  to  be  thrown  into 
the  river,  or  to  be  mercilessly  beaten  and 
obliged  to  run  for  one's  life. 

The  boy  had  seen  one  or  two  cases  of  this 
kind  during  his  brief  experience  of  the  Com- 
mune, and  he  knew  that  he  must  now  put  on 
a  bold  face. 

So  he  spoke  up  loudly,  saying:  "I  am  no 
Prussian  !  I  am  an  American,  and  I  want  to 
go  away  from  here.  I  don't  know  anything 
about  your  affairs  ;  I  only  came  in  here  to  see 
the  church.  Let  me  alone !  " 

This  last  exclamation  was  forced  from  him 
by  the  grip  upon  his  jacket  of  a  dozen  hands, 
and  before  he  could  make  any  remonstrance 
he  found  himself  hurried  along  toward  the 
door,  receiving,  as  he  went,  heavy  blows,  any 
one  of  which  would  have  floored  him  had  he 
not  been  held  up  by  the  grip  of  the  captors. 

He  continued  to  shout  and  protest,  feeling 
that  if  he  were  pushed  into  the  street  it  was 
all  over  with  him,  for  he  had  heard  of  the 
fury  of  the  market-women.  As  they  came  to 


232        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

the  huge  curtain  of  padded  leather,  which  over- 
hung  the  side  entrance  to  the  church,  and  while 
they  were  thrusting  it  aside,  he  made  one  final 
appeal,  which  brought  about  another  shaking 
from  his  tormentors,  and  then  the  combined 
influences  of  the  fatigue  of  the  morning,  the 
excitement  of  his  search  for  the  hotel  since  he 
had  lost  his  way,  and  the  peril  he  was  in, 
overcame  him,  and  all  was  a  blank. 

"Hold!  What  is  all  this  about,  my  gos- 
sips; my  sweet  charmers  of  the  fish  market?" 
cried  a  strong,  hearty  voice,  which  seemed  to 
dominate  the  general  clamor.  "Hands  off,  I 
say !  Have  you  nothing  better  to  do  than  to 
beat  a  poor  boy  half  to  death  ?  Why,  there 
isn't  one  of  my  drunken  troopers  who  would 
dare  to  raise  his  hand  to  a  boy  of  that  size  if  I 
were  within  a  mile  of  him  !  Hands  off,  I  say  ! 
Must  I  draw  on  you,  women  as  you  are  ?  " 

The  tone  of  authority  and  the  jingle  of 
arms  intimidated  the  women  a  little.  Some 
of  them  fell  back,  eyeing  the  new-comer  as 
wolves  eye  the  person  who  beats  them  off 
from  their  prey,  and  evidently  intending  to 


DOMBROWSKI    RESCUES    FRANK    FROM    THK    FlSH     WlVES 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED.  233 

spring  upon  it  again  at  the  first  chance 
offered. 

"Who  is  this  Jack  in  Boots?"  said 
Munon's  coarse  voice.  "  What  does  he  want 
here  with  his  spurs?  Why  isn't  he  fighting 
the  Versail lists  ?" 

"Yes,  yes!"  came  in  chorus  from  the 
women.  "Perhaps  he  is  another  spy." 

"Out  of  the  way,  Mr.  Puss  in  Boots,"  said 
Manon.  "  We're  going  to  duck  this  spy  ; 
this  sneaking,  crawling  little  eavesdropper, 
who  has  been  sent  by  the  Prussians  to  find 
out  what  we  have  been  saying  in  our  clubs !" 

The  new-comer  was  a  good-looking,  vigorous 
man  of  forty-five,  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  a 
general  of  the  Commune,  a  fact  which  might 
have  intimidated  the  market-women  had  they 
not  been  so  blinded  by  their  anger  that  they 
hardly  noticed  the  insignia  of  his  rank. 

He  wore  a  crimson  sash  and  a  handsome 
sabre,  which  he  seemed  half  inclined  to  draw 
in  defence  of  poor  Frank,  whose  face  elicited 
his  sympathy. 

"Well,  women,"  he  said,  "I  have  heard 
that  you  were  terrible  to  meet,  but  I  would 


234         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

not  have  believed  you  would  attack  a  child. 
Are  you  wolves  or  women  1  Whichever  you 
are,  give  me  the  boy  within  a  minute's  time 
or  I  will  send  a  file  of  soldiers  here  to  carry 
you  all  off  to  St.  Lazare  !  " 

One  of  the  younger  women  set  up  a  shrill 
whistle  at  this,  and  raising  her  two  arms 
above  her  head,  shook  them  defiantly  at  the 
general,  shouting : 

"Send  along  your  uniformed  flunkies,  and 
we'll  duck  them  with  the  spy,  and  you  too, 
whoever  you  are,  unless  you  stand  out  of  the 
way." 

"Yes,  yes,  out  of  the  way !"  shouted  the 
chorus  of  harpies. 

At  this  there  was  a  sudden  flash  of  light, 
which,  as  Manon  confessed  afterward,  seemed 
completely  to  blind  her,  and  the  next  instant 
she  felt  a  violent  shock.  When  she  recovered 
her  senses  she  found  the  general  had  drawn 
his  sword,  which  doubtless  explained  the 
flash  which  so  alarmed  her,  had  wrested  the 
poor  boy  from  his  enemies,  and  was  now 
standing  in  front  of  him,  ready  at  all  hazards 
to  act  as  his  defender. 


A   FRIEND  IN  NEED.  236 

"  Spy,  you  idiots  !  "  said  the  general.  "Do 
you  suppose  the  Prussians,  who  have  long 
ago  ceased  to  take  any  interest  in  your  silly 
quarrels,  would  send  a  boy  of  fourteen,  and 
not  even  old  enough  to  do  military  duty  in 
Paris,  to  run  the  risk  of  being  torn  into  shoe- 
strings by  such  silly  old  women  ?" 

This  last  phrase  so  excited  the  harpies  that 
they  refused  to  listen,  and  only  screamed  and 
shouted. 

The  general,  still  keeping  his  sword  pointed 
toward  the  most  advanced  of  the  feminine 
company,  finally  succeeded  in  making  himself 
heard  again : 

"Listen ! "  he  shouted  in  his  vibrating  tones, 
which  seemed  to  command  attention.  "If 
one  of  you  stirs  in  her  tracks,  she  will  find 
that  I  mean  at  all  hazards  to  have  this  boy 
safe !  Back  to  your  club,  for  there  you  can 
do  no  harm.  Your  cackle  is  of  small  conse- 
quence to  us,  who  do  the  fighting  to  save 
your  silly  necks !  Back,  I  say,  or  I'll  have 
the  Committee  of  Safety  after  you  in  an 
hour!" 

Just  at  this  juncture  appeared  the  red-faced 


236  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

man,  who  had  cautiously  descended  from  the 
pulpit  on  hearing  the  clamor. 

"What's  this  about?"  he  asked.  As  he 
caught  sight  of  the  general  his  jaw  fell,  and  a 
troubled  look  overspread  his  coarse  features. 

"Dombrowski ! "  he  stammered  ;  "  the  gen- 
eral !  Why  is  he  here  ?  Silence,  women ! 
Do  you  know  who  this  man  is?" 

"Yes,  he's  Puss  in  Boots!"  cried  Manon, 
"and  he  is  protecting  a  spy,  and  it  shall  be 
worse  for  him  if  he  doesn't  give  him  up  ! " 

"Nonsense,  woman!"  said  the  red-faced 
man;  "you  will  be  in  St.  Lazare  before  you 
say  ten  words  more  !  He  is  the  general ! " 

Then  approaching  Manon,  he  whispered : 
"It  is  the  general — General  Dombrowski. 
He  hates  clubs  because  he  thinks  they  try  to 
dictate  to  the  army.  He  would  like  nothing 
better  than  to  have  a  quarrel  with  us.  You 
had  better  retreat,  give  up  the  boy,  and  say 
nothing." 

Manon  received  this  in  sulky  silence,  which 
indicated  that  she  bowed  to  superior  author- 
ity, and  made  some  mysterious  gestures  to  her 
comrades  which  caused  them  at  once  to  with- 


A   FRIEND   IN  NEED.  237 

draw  into  the  church,  leaving  poor  Frank, 
still  quite  unconscious,  leaning  heavily  upon 
the  arm  of  the  general,  who  supported  him 
entirely,  while  he  sheathed,  with  his  disen- 
gaged hand,  the  sword  which  had  been  so 
effectual  in  the  boy's  liberation. 

The  soldier  gave  a  long  and  careful  look 
at  Frank,  murmuring  to  himself: 

"  This  is  no  German,  nor  is  he  a  Frenchman 
jither.  Some  poor  stranger  who  stepped  into 
that  den  out  of  curiosity.  I  must  have  his 

tine  and  quarters,  and  he  must  have  help  at 
once.  He  looks  deathly  ill." 

The  general  shook  Frank  and  blew  in  his 
face,  trying  to  reanimate  him  by  the  only 
means  he  had  at  hand. 

Frank  opened  his  eyes,  looked  wildly 
around,  and  gave  a  terrified  stare  at  the 
general.  Then  he  started  to  run  away,  but  he 
found  the  soldier's  strong  arms  around  him. 

"Stop  a  bit,  my  boy.  You  are  not  strong 
enough  yet.  Ah !  there  is  a  wine  merchant's 
yonder,  with  a  little  table  under  the  awning. 
Come  and  sit  there  a  moment  with  me ;  you 
need  to  bathe  your  face  and  to  drink  some- 


238         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

tiling  strengthening.  You  have  had  a  narrow 
escape,  my  boy,  from  a  much  more  intimate 
acquaintance  with  water  than  you  are  going 
to  get  now." 

Frank  was  too  exhausted  and  disturbed  to 
make  any  answer.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  the 
ground  receded  from  beneath  his  feet,  and  as 
if  the  tall  houses  bowed  to  him  when  he 
looked  at  them.  He  leaned  heavily  on  his 
new  friend's  shoulder,  and  together  they  went 
toward  the  wine  merchant's. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  What  are  you  ?  Where  did 
you  come  from  ?  How  came  you  among  those 
she- wolves?"  asked  the  general. 

These  questions  were  asked  slowly  and 
kindly,  and  Frank  understood  almost  all  his 
new  acquaintance  said,  but  when  the  answer 
came  it  was  in  English. 

"All  I  know,"  said  Frank,  "is  that  I  went 
in  there  to  rest,  and  they  all  pitched  on  to  me. 
I  suppose  they  took  me  for  a  German.  I  wish 
I  had  given  that  big  red-faced  woman  a  crack 
in  the  back,  that's  all  I  know !"  and  he  felt 
like  fainting  again. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  general,  now  speak- 


A   FRIEND   IN  NEED.  239 

ing  in  clear,  correct  English,  but  with  a  cer- 
tain accent:  "I  knew  you  were  no  German, 
and  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  you  are  from  the 
other  side  of  the  great  big  sea.  Is  it  not  so  ? 
I  thought  so." 
Then  they  sat  down  together. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FRANK   FEELS  THE  BLOW. 

E  kind  words,  the  protecting  attitude, 
and  the  friendly  offices  of  the  general 
brought  Frank  into  condition  again,  and  with 
the  return  of  his  courage  and  spirits  came  the 
thought : 

"  I  must  hasten  home.  What  will  Grandpa 
Drubal  and  little  AVill  think  of  me  for  staying 
away  so  long  ?  " 

Then  he  remembered  that  he  was  lost,  that 
he  had  tried  in  vain  to  find  bis  way  out  of  the 
labyrinth  of  streets,  each  one  of  which  seemed, 
with  its  tall  white  stone  houses,  with  their 
queer  old  balconies  and  huge  sculptured 
doors,  to  resemble  the  other. 

He  rose  impetuously,  saying: 

"I  must  go  to  the  hotel.  They  are  waiting 
for  me.  I  lost  my  way.  Could  you  direct 
me  to  the  Place  Vendome  ?  " 

The  general  gave  a  cheery  shout  of  assent. 


FRANK   FEELS  THE  BLOW.  241 

"To  the  Place  Vendorae!"  he  repeated. 
"  My  headquarters  are  there !  Come  along, 
my  boy,  and  if  your  hotel  is  in  that  neighbor- 
hood, you  will  soon  be  among  your  friends." 

It  no\v  seemed  to  Frank  that  the  sun  shone 
more  brightly.  He  felt  his  old  gayety  return- 
ing, and  a  kind  of  pride,  in  having  been 
rescued  by  so  great  a  man  as  the  Communist 
general  evidently  was,  awoke  in  his  breast. 
What  a  story  it  would  be  to  tell  little  Will, 
and  how  jealous  it  would  make  him  ! 

"Come  with  me,"  said  the  general.  "My 
name  is  Dombrowski.  I  am  a  general,  just 
low,  under  the  Commune.  There  have  been 
others  in  my  place  before  me,  and,"  he  added, 
"  there  may  be  others  soon  rising  to  replace 
me.  Our  heads  are  not  very  safe  on  our 
shoulders  in  these  troublous  times,  I  can  tell 
you." 

Frank  looked  at  him  with  eyes  big  with 
enquiry. 

"No,  I  do  not  mean  that  they  will  cut  our 
heads  off  as  they  did  in  the  old  Revolution. 
But  the  shoemakers  and  butchers  who  con- 
duct the  military  game  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville 

16 


242  UNDEK  THE   RED   FLAG. 

are  very  fond  of  replacing  a  general  if  he  does 
not  gain  a  new  victory  every  day.  So  my 
glory  may  be  of  short  duration.  But  I  am 
glad  that  it  has  enabled  me  to  be  of  some 
service  to  you." 

He  smiled  so  pleasantly  and  spoke  with 
such  sympathy  that  Frank's  heart  quite 
warmed  toward  his  new  friend.  They  went 
rapidly  through  several  gloomy  old  streets, 
into  which  the  sunshine  could  scarcely  send 
its  bright  rays,  so  narrow  and  tortuous  were 
they ;  and  presently  they  came  out  into  the 
Place  Vendome,  at  which  Frank  set  up  a 
shout  of  delight. 

"Here,"  said  the  general,  pointing  to  the 
right,  "are  my  headquarters.  They  have 
been  here  for  a  week ;  to-morrow  they  may 
be  in  the  saddle,  but  if  you  like  to  come  to  see 
me  here,  you  can  tell  me  the  rest  of  your 
story  at  your  convenience." 

Frank  blushed,  and  hastened  to  beg  his  new 
friend's  pardon  for  not  having  explained 
more  carefully  who  he  was. 

"I  would  not  have  you  think,"  he  said, 
"that,  after  all,  I  might  be  a  spy." 


FRANK   FEELS   THE   BLOW. 


243 


"No,"  said  the  general;  "your  American 
face  and  your  English  accent  are  sufficient 
guarantee  against  that.  I  like  your  looks, 
and  should  be  glad  to  see  more  of  you." 
"If  you  will  only  come  with  me  to  the 
hotel,"  said  Frank,  "  I  should  be  glad  to  have 
you  know  my  brother  and  our  grandfather, 
who  is  here  with  us.  Perhaps  you  may  have 
seen  him  already  ;  he  was  at  the  great  review 
at  the  Hotel  de  Ville  the  other  day,  and," 
added  Frank,  smiling  as  he  remembered  the 
episode,  "  the  troops,  who  heard  he  was  an 

Lmerican  general, — he  was  called  so  because 
was  once  in  the  Civil  War, — cheered  him 

jveral  times." 
"Indeed,"     said     the    general,    with    an 

imused  smile.     "I  have  nothing  to  do  for 
the  moment,  and  will  walk  to  your  hotel  with 

rou.     It  may  be  as  well,  for  I  do  not  know 

rho    has    perhaps    followed    us    from    the 

jhurch." 

In  a  few  moments  they  were  at  the  door  of 
the  hotel  in  the  Rue  de  Castiglione.     Frank 

ittered  a  cry  of  dismay  and  started  back  as 

le  saw  that  the  door  was  filled  with  a  group 


244         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

of  slouching,  ill-kempt  soldiers  ;  and  as  he 
heard  the  sound  of  noisy  singing  within,  the 
general  looked  at  him  enquiringly. 

"I  am  sure  this  is  the  place,"  said  Frank, 
staring  about;  "but  it  seems  all  changed. 
There  were  no  soldiers  here  when  I  went  away 
this  morning.  And  where  is  the  office?  The 
door  is  shut." 

His  heart  sank  and  his  voice  faltered. 

"Let  us  go  upstairs,"  he  said,  "and  find 
Grandpa  Drubal.  He  is  sure  to  be  in  our 
rooms." 

The  quiver  in  the  boy's  voice  brought  a  new 
sympathy  into  the  general's  face. 

"Something  has  happened,"  he  muttered  in 
French.  "  Some  mischief  of  the  Committee 
of  Safety,  I  suppose.  It  is  lucky  I  am  with 
him." 

They  pushed  past  the  soldiers,  who  hardly 
noticed  the  general,  and  none  of  them  saluted 
him,  and  hurriedly  climbed  the  stairs.  Frank 
shouted  and  knocked  at  the  door  of  their 
rooms.  There  was  no  answer.  Then  he 
pounded  vigorously  on  the  door,  crying  out 
in  turn  for  Grandpa  Drubal,  for  little  Will, 


FRANK   FEELS   THE   BLOW.  245 

for  Marcelle,  but  still  no  response.  Frank 
turned  a  frightened  face  to  the  general. 

"Can't  you  do  something,  sir?"  he  said. 
"I  don't  know  what  this  means." 

The  general  made  no  answer,  but  applied 
his  fists  to  the  door  to  such  good  purpose  that 
presently  the  key  turned  in  the  lock  and  a 
frowsy  soldier  put  out  his  head. 

"What  is  it,  citizen  general?"  he  said,  in 
a  drunken  voice.  "Must  we  go  to  fight- 
ing again?  Our  battalion  has  had  no  sleep 
for  three  days,  and  we  must  get  some 
rest." 

"Why,  they  are  gone!"  cried  Frank. 
"  They  surely  would  not  be  in  there  with 
those  soldiers.  What  does  it  mean?" 

And  in  spite  of  his  determination  to  be 
brave,  the  tears  began  to  run  down  his  cheeks, 
and  he  looked  from  right  to  left  like  an 
animal  compelled  to  stand  at  bay. 

The  general  pushed  past  the  soldier  without 
ceremony  and  Frank  followed  him  into  the 
ante-room  of  the  parlor  where  Grandpa 
Drubal  was  always  to  be  found  when  at  the 
hotel.  He  found  no  signs  of  little  Will ;  no 


246         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

evidence  of  their  belongings.    Even  their  bag- 
gage had  vanished. 

"Are  you  sure,"  said  the  general,  "that 
these  are  the  rooms  which  you  occupied." 

"Quite  sure,"  said  Frank.  At  this  point 
his  feelings  overmastered  him  and  he  leaned 
against  the  half  open  door  and  began  to  cry. 

"Come,  come!"  said  the  general,  "you 
must  muster  your  courage.  Something  has 
happened  here.  We  must  find  out  what  it  is." 

The  grumbling  soldier  who  had  opened  the 
door  now  showed  such  a  strong  inclination  to 
shut  it  that  the  general  led  the  poor  boy  into 
the  passage,  and,  asking  him  to  sit  down  on 
the  top  stair,  drew  from  him,  with  much  kind- 
ness and  gentleness,  his  whole  story. 

When  Frank  had  finished  the  recital,  not 
without  many  sobs,  which  would  come  in 
spite  of  his  desire  to  preserve  a  manly  dignity, 
the  general  took  the  boy's  hands  in  his  and 
said: 

"I  thought  that  mine  had  been  a  life  of 
adventure,  but  surely  I  never  had  so  much 
trouble  and  such  a  varied  experience,  when  a 
boy, as  you  are  having.  Strange!  You  go  out 


FRANK   FEELS  THE  BLOW.  247 

for  a  call  on  your  consul  with  your  grand- 
father ;  you  separate  from  him  in  the  street ; 
you  lose  your  way  ;  when  you  try  to  get  home 
to  the  hotel  where  you  have  left  your  little 
brother,  you  narrowly  escape  drowning  at  the 
hands  of  a  lot  of  market  women  ;  you  fall  into 
the  care  of  an  old  soldier  who  shows  you  the 
right  road  to  your  hotel,  and  when  you  get 
there  everything  is  changed  ;  your  grand- 
father and  your  little  brother  are  gone,  and 
the  house  is  filled  with  soldiers  !  Strange  !  " 

"  But  they  must  be  here,"  said  Frank. 
"Let  us  look  in  all  the  other  rooms."  The 
general  shook  his  head  dubiously. 

"  We  will  do  so,  my  boy,"  he  said.  "But 
the  occupation  of  this  house  by  these  troops, 
the  absence  of  the  landlord,  the  apparent 
flight  of  the  servants,  all  indicate " 

He  paused,  as  if  afraid  that  what  he  was 
about  to  say  might  cause  the  boy  more  pain. 

"  And  if  they  have  gone  away,"  said  Frank, 
"somebody  must  have  seen  them  go.  If 
these  soldiers  know  nothing  about  it,  the 
neighbors  surely  must  have  some  informa- 
tion to  give  us." 


248         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"  Hum  !  "  said  the  general ;  "  there  are  no 
neighbors  in  Paris.  The  person  who  lives 
next  door  to  you  in  your  hotel  would  not 
feel  like  volunteering  any  testimony,  if  he  felt 
convinced  you  had  been  murdered  in  your 
room.  Besides,  this  quarter  of  Paris  is  almost 
deserted  now.  Thousands  of  the  inhabitants 
ran  away  when  the  first  fighting  began.  Yet 
we  will  go  and  ask  a  few  questions." 

So,  after  climbing  the  stairs  to  the  other 
stories  of  the  house,  and  knocking  at  the 
door  of  each  apartment,  and  finding  nobody 
except  here  and  there  a  sleepy  soldier  whose 
invariable  response  was  that  his  battalion  had 
been  told  to  occupy  the  house,  they  went 
downstairs  and  into  the  street.  No  neigh- 
boring door  was  open,  but  after  walking  a 
few  yards  toward  the  Place  Vendome  they 
found  a  swarthy  merchant  of  Algerian  cu- 
riosities seated  within  the  shadow  of  his 
doorway,  gravely  smoking  a  cigarette,  and 
looking  with  melancholy  eyes  at  his  small 
stock,  which  no  one  came  to  examine. 

The  general  questioned  him  for  some  min- 
utes, without  learning  that  he  had  ever  heard 


FRANK   FEELS   THE   BLOW.  249 

of  the  hotel  so  near  him,  before  turning  away 
with  a  jingle  of  his  spurs  which  seemed  to 
indicate  his  annoyance. 

"  It  is  quite  useless,  my  boy,"  he  said. 
"You  have  yourself  told  me  that  you  think 
there  were  no  other  guests  but  your  party  in 
the  hotel.  Your  grandfather  and  your  little 
brother  may  have  been  simply  expelled  by 
some  over-zealous  officer.  We  must  hunt  for 
them  in  other  hotels,  and  then  make  enquiry 
at  the  consulate  ;  for  you  must  remember  that, 
if  you  are  hunting  for  your  friends,  they  are 
also  by  this  time  alarmed  at  your  non-appear- 
ance and  searching  for  you." 

"  Where  can  they  have  gone  ? "  cried  Frank, 
AY i th  grief  and  impatience  in  his  tones.  "  They 
can't  have  disappeared  into  the  air ;  and  it  is 
only  two  or  three  hours  since  I  left  them 
there!" 

He  pointed  to  the  hotel,  and  there  was  so 
much  trouble  in  his  young  voice  that  the 
general  felt  his  own  eyes  grow  dim,  and, 
placing  his  hand  paternally  on  the  boy's 
shoulder : 

"Whatever   has  happened    to    them,"   he 


250         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

said,  "you  shall  not  lack  for  a  friend  so  long 
as  Dombrowski  lives !  Let  us  now  go  to  the 
few  other  hotels  which  remain  open,  and  then 
to  the  Consulate." 

Frank  sighed  pitifully,  and  gave  a  backward 
regretful  glance  at  the  balconies  of  the  hotel, 
as  if  feeling  still  certain  that  Grandpa  Drubal 
and  little  Will  must  appear  upon  one  of  them 
and  beckon  to  him  to  come  up.  Then  he  fol- 
lowed his  new  friend.  Every  moment  the 
sense  of  dread  and  apprehension  seemed  to  in- 
crease and  to  spread  a  gloom  over  the  future. 

At  the  end  of  two  hours'  close  and  careful 
search,  in  the  hotels  and  at  the  Consulate,  they 
were  no  wiser  than  before.  It  was  evident 
that  Grandpa  Drubal  had  not  taken  lodgings 
in  any  of  the  many  houses  ordinarily  fre- 
quented by  strangers.  Neither  had  he  re- 
turned to  the  Consulate.  The  consul  himself 
had  not  been  there,  and  the  only  suggestion 
made  by  the  clerks  was  that,  "  the  old  gentle- 
man and  the  little  boy  must  have  gone  into 
private  lodgings." 

In  his  heart  the  general  felt  convinced  that 
this  was  not  so.  But  he  left  Frank  that  hope. 


FRANK   FEELS  THE  BLOW.  251 

A  suspicion  had  arisen  in  the  general's  mind 
that  the  old  man  might  have  fallen  a  victim  to 
the  denunciation  of  some  jealous  or  officious 
Communist,  and  have  been  arrested  or  per- 
haps summarily  sent  out  of  Paris. 

"  We  will  first  go  to  my  headquarters,"  he 
said  to  the  boy,  "  and  then  to  the  Hotel  de 
Ville.  There  I  will  see  the  people  who  con- 
trol the  police,  and  they  will,  I  think,  have 
the  names  of  any  foreigners  in  lodgings." 

"We  must  find  them  before  night,"  said 
poor  Frank. 

The  general's  spurs  jingled  again,  but  he 
made  no  answer. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

DOMBROWSKI    AT    DINNER. 

THE  headquarters  of  General  Dombrowski 
were  on  the  upper  and  right-hand  side 
of  the  Place  Vendome  as  one  came  from  the 
hotel  where  Frank  had  been  lodged.  Over 
the  huge  and  imposing  coach  entrance  to  the 
great  mansion  was  one  of  those  sculptured 
faces  which  had  so  attracted  little  Will's 
fancy  when  the  boy  first  entered  the  historic 
Place. 

The  mansion  had  evidently  been,  in  the  old 
days,  the  abode  of  some  great  family.  The 
beautifully  carved  stonework  on  the  walls  of 
the  coachway  leading  to  the  grand  staircase  ; 
the  panels  with  armorial  bearings ;  the 
wrought  ironwork,  worthy  of  Antwerp's  best 
artists  in  her  palmy  days  ;  the  Cupids  and  the 
heads  of  goddesses  which  adorned  the  en- 
trance to  the  stairway — all  were  evidences  of 
the  taste  of  the  Great  Monarch's  time. 

252 


DOMBROWSKI   AT  DINNER.  253 

Frank  had  a  quick  eye  for  these  beauties, 
but  for  the  moment  he  saw  them  through  a 
kind  of  mist  of  regrets  and  tears :  and  it  was 
with  a  feeling  of  loneliness  and  despair  that 
he  climbed  the  long,  handsome  stairs  behind 
the  general,  and  followed  him  into  an  apart- 
ment where  a  dozen  youngish  officers,  dressed 
in  the  sombre  uniform  of  the  Communists, 
were  seated  smoking  and  drinking  cham- 
pagne. 

"There,  my  young  friend,"  said  the  gen- 
eral, "  are  the  officers  of  my  staff.  I  must 
tell  you  that  you  can  speak  English  with  most 
of  them,  for  they  are  not  Frenchmen.  As  you 
might  expect,  half  of  them  are  Poles  like 
myself,  and  there  is  a  sprinkling  of  Italians, 
Greeks,  and — yes,  I  believe  we  even  have  one 
or  two  Frenchmen.  This,  you  must  know," 
he  said,  taking  off  his  sword  and  tossing  it 
upon  the  table,  "is  a  very  cosmopolitan  in- 
surrection. If  the  Military  Commission  at  the 
Commune  does  not  decide  to  imprison  or 
shoot  me  within  the  next  few  days,  I  may  be- 
come the  general-in-chief.  How  is  that  ? " 

He  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and 


254         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

looked  at  Frank  with  a  whimsical  expression 
on  his  features,  as  if  amused  at  his  approach- 
ing promotion. 

"  Not  so  bad,  eh  ?  "  he  said,  "  for  a  Polish 
adventurer,  as  I  suppose  they  would  call  me 
over  yonder  at  Versailles.  But  come,  let  me 
present  you  to  these  gentlemen.  You  must 
have  some  dinner  with  us." 

Frank  felt  inclined  to  shrink  into  a  corner 
and  keep  communion  with  his  own  sad 
thoughts ;  but  a  moment's  reflection  con- 
vinced him  that  he  must  be  agreeable  to  his 
new  acquaintances,  who  might  find  him  a  way 
out  of  his  trouble.  So  he  bashfully  joined 
the  little  group,  while  the  general,  standing 
with  both  hands  on  the  boy's  shoulders,  told 
the  staff  briefly  what  had  happened,  and  that 
Frank  was  their  guest  until  he  found  his 
friends. 

"A  fine  boy,"  said  one  of  the  officers, 
filling  a  glass  with  foaming  champagne,  and 
presenting  it  with  a  pleasant  bow,  which  indi- 
cated a  desire  for  the  best  of  good-fellowship. 

"No,  no  !"  said  Dombrowski,  "  don't  make 
the  boy  drink  ;  he  is  faint  with  hunger,  I  have 


DOMBIIOWSKI   AT  DINNER.  255 

no  doubt.  Call  the  servants,  and  see  that  we 
have  dinner  promptly  at  six.  And,  till  then, 
Master  Frank  and  myself  will  drink  nothing 
but  water." 

At  this  the  officers  set  up  a  shout  in  concert, 
and  with  a  loud  voice  informed  the  general 
that  they  had  been  exploring  the  cellar  of  the 
mansion,  and  had  found  there  a  thousand  bot- 
tles of  a  glorious  vintage,  which  it  was  a  pity 
to  leave  for  the  millionnaires  to  drink  on  their 
return. 

"On  their  return?"  said  the  general. 
"  Do  you  mean  to  imply  that  the  insurrection 
will  not  be  a  success  ? " 

They  all  insisted  that  nothing  was  further 
from  their  thoughts. 

44  Very  well,  then,"  said  Dombrowski.  "If 
the  Commune  is  to  succeed,  the  millionnaires 
are  to  be  tabooed ;  therefore  the  wine  can 
await  our  pleasure.  It  strikes  me  that 
you  have  had  enough  for  the  present;  so 
banish  these  bottles,  and  let  me  tell  you  what 
I  intend  to  do  to-morrow.  Master  Frank, 
you  will  find  a  sofa  in  my  bedroom,  to 
which  the  servant  will  show  you  ;  I  recom- 


256        UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

mend  you  to  occupy  it  for  the  next  hour 
or  so." 

A  fat  servant  in  a  Communist  uniform 
showed  the  boy  into  a  handsomely  furnished 
bedroom,  where  half  a  dozen  fresh  uniforms 
were  hanging  on  the  pegs  so  lately  vacated 
by  the  fugitive  millionnaire's  wardrobe.  T\vo 
or  three  gala  swords  were  lying  on  the  bed  ; 
a  well-worn  copy  of  Caesar's  "Commentaries," 
open  evidently  at  some  passage  which  the 
general  had  been  reading,  reposed  on  the 
toilet  table  ;  and  an  official  journal  of  the  Com- 
mune, with  passages  marked  in  red,  lay  be- 
side a  note-book  in  which  Dombrowski  had 
been  writing  before  he  went  out.  Two  or 
three  maps  of  the  fortifications  of  the  city 
and  of  the  outlying  forts  were  pinned  to  the 
wall,  and  the  positions  of  the  two  armies 
were  indicated  upon  them  by  red  and  black 
pins. 

Even  Frank's  boyish  experience  was  suffi- 
cient to  show  him  that  this  luxurious  house, 
with  its  beautiful  rooms,  its  costly  furniture, 
with  these  youthful  foreign  officers  drinking 
and  smoking,  and  with  their  general  about  to 


DOMBROWSKI   AT  DINNER.  257 

sit  down  quietly  to  dinner,  was  not  much  like 
the  idea  of  a  camp  in  a  city  in  revolt  against 
a  whole  nation. 

Frank  threw  himself  upon  the  richly  tapes- 
tried sofa  and  looked  up  at  the  painted  ceil- 
ing, full  of  winged  cherubim,  and  wondered 
if  all  war  was  like  the  little  he  was  now  seeing 
of  it. 

Under  the  very  windows  of  this  house,  where 
all  was  luxury,  but  a  few  days  before  had 
occurred  a  terrible  massacre.  The  Commune 
had  come  like  a  wave  of  fire  ;  and  who  could 
say  that  some  day  a  wave  of  blood  might  not 
sweep  through  the  great  square  with  its 
stately  mansions  and  noble  sculptures  and  its 
picturesque  and  monumental  doorways?  Was 
the  general  in  earnest,  or  was  he  incompetent  ? 
How  could  he  be  so  tranquil  and  enjoy  such 
apparent  ease  when  outside  the  fighting  went 
on  night  and  day,  and  at  any  moment  the  tide 
might  turn  against  the  insurrection  ? 

Musing  thus,  with  the  pang  of  his  separa- 
tion from  his  brother  and  his  grandfather  still 
sharp  in  his  mind,  Frank  fell  asleep. 

lie  was  aroused  by  a  gentle  tap  on  his  arm, 

17 


258         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

and  he  found  the  general,  neatly  attired  in 
a  fresh  uniform,  standing  over  him  and 
saying : 

"Come,  my  boy,  to  dinner,  and  try  and  do 
justice  to  our  Communist  fare.  I  have  good 
news  for  you." 

Frank  sprang  up  with  a  smile  on  his  face, 
but  it  faded  away  as  the  general  said : 

"I  have  learned  that  at  the  Hotel  deVille 
we  may  find  the  record  of  all  strangers  who 
come  and  go  each  day  in  Paris,  and  as  I  have 
an  errand  there  after  dinner,  we  will  find  out 
this  very  night  what  has  become  of  your 
friends.  So  cheer  up,  and  to-morrow  you  will 
be  laughing  over  your  griefs  of  to-day!  You 
shake  your  head  ?  You  think  I  am  trying  to 
comfort  you  ?  No  ;  I  believe  we  shall  know 
all  to-night." 

Frank  had  never  seen  anything  quite  like 
the  dinner  at  which  he  was  now  a  guest.  The 
dining-room  was  large,  and  beautifully  dec- 
orated. The  magnificently  carved  chimney- 
piece,  representing  the  seizing  of  Proserpine, 
was  so  resplendent  with  colored  marbles  that 
it  fairly  dazzled  the  boy's  eyes.  The  long 


DOMBROWSKI   AT  DINNER.  259 

table  was  laden  with  beautiful  silver  candela- 
bra, between  which  at  regular  intervals  were 
baskets  of  flowers  and  the  strange  edifices  of 
sugar  at  making  which  French  cooks  are  so 
adroit. 

Plates  were  laid  for  thirty  persons.  Hand- 
some servants,  dressed  in  the  Communist 
uniform,  were  hurrying  to  and  fro,  bringing 
different  side  dishes,  and  a  majestic  personage 
with  a  silver  chain  around  his  neck  was 
directing  their  movements  from  a  door  at  the 
end  of  the  hall.  Here  and  there  stood  baskets 
containing  cobwebbed  bottles  of  Bordeaux 
and  Burgundy,  and  in  silver  vases  reposed 
flasks  of  frozen  champagne  which  were  to  be 
served  with  the  dessert. 

"Why,  here,"  thought  Frank,  "is  luxury 
enough  for  half  a  dozen  millionnaires.  It 
doesn't  look  much  like  the  simplicity  that 
the  Commune  talks  about  in  its  official  cir- 
culars. I  wonder  what  Jules  has  for  dinner 
at  his  outpost,  and  what  he  would  think  of 
this  lay-out?" 

Frank  saw  the  general's  grave  gaze  fixed 
upon  him,  as  if  he  were  reading  his  very 


260        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

thoughts.  The  boy  blushed,  and  it  was  not 
without  a  certain  feeling  of  pride  that  he 
found  himself  seated  next  to  Dombrowski,  as 
if  he  were  the  principal  guest.  The  other 
officers  took  seats  carelessly,  without  the 
slightest  ceremony.  Then  a  side  door  was 
thrown  open,  and  a  dozen  youngish  men, 
negligently  dressed, — one  of  them  smoking 
a  cigarette, — were  ushered  in,  and  were  no 
sooner  seated  than  they  began  to  talk  among 
themselves,  without  paying  the  smallest  atten- 
tion to  the  rest  of  the  company.  Four  or 
five  of  the  chairs  remained  vacant. 

"Now,  Frank,"  said  the  general,  "what  do 
you  think  the  owner  of  the  house  would  say, 
if  he  were  to  happen  in?" 

"I  think,"  said  Frank  timidly,  "that  he 
would  be  somewhat  surprised." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Dombrowski ;  "and 
he  will  be  still  more  so  when  he  discovers  that 
the  Commune  has  taken  nothing  from  him  but 
the  wine  that  was  in  his  bottles  and  the  few 
luxuries  he  left  in  his  larder.  Not  a  painting, 
not  a  statue,  not  one  of  these  little  Cupids,  not 
a  piece  of  the  silver  plate,  shall  be  lost.  I 


DOMBROWSKI   AT  DINNER.  261 

have  sworn  it,"  he  said,  looking  sharply 
around  at  the  staff,  and  bringing  his  hand 
down  with  a  force  which  made  the  glasses 
dance.  "There  shall  be  no  accusation  of 
thieving  against  us." 

Frank  wondered  how  the  general  managed 
to  make  the  distinction  between  the  wines  in 
the  cellar  and  the  pictures  on  the  wall,  but  he 
felt  that  this  was  no  concern  of  his. 

An  appetizing  soup  was  placed  before  him, 
and  presently  the  hum  of  dinner  conversation 
began  to  grow  steadily  into  a  little  whirlwind 
of  loud  and  merry  talk,  interspersed  here  and 
there  by  soldierly  oaths  and  phrases.  The 
general  talked  now  in  French,  now  in  his  own 
language,  and  now  in  English  ;  but  neither 
from  what  he  was  saying,  nor  from  his  de- 
meanor, could  Frank  discover  that  he  was 
paying  attention  to  military  matters.  He 
seemed  even  to  evade  reference  .to  them,  and 
one  of  the  long  discussions  in  which  he  en- 
gaged was  about  the  merits  of  a  recent  play, 
as  to  which  he  differed  with  an  artillery 
officer. 

The  scene  was  really  splendid.     The  dining- 


262         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

room  was  dazzling  in  the  glow  of  the  hundred 
wax  lights,  and  the  silver,  the  damask,  the 
ivory,  and  the  glass  all  sent  forth  a  pleasant 
sheen.  The  servants  hastening  to  and  fro,  the 
popping  of  corks,  and  the  drinking  of  toasts, 
the  occasional  song  from  a  merry  member  of 
the  company,  were  rather  confusing  to  Frank, 
whose  head  seemed  trying  to  turn  round, 
although  he  had  refused  to  touch  the  various 
wines  offered  him. 

Suddenly  he  heard  a  strain  of  beautiful 
music,  and  on  looking  up  he  saw  that  the  four 
or  five  places  which  had  been  left  vacant  were 
now  occupied  by  a  little  company  of  singers 
and  players  upon  mandolins,  men  and  women 
dressed  in  fantastic  costumes,  who  had  evi- 
dently been  sent  for  to  beguile  with  song  these 
revellers  as  they  sat  at  dessert. 

Frank  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes.  So 
much  luxury,  so  much  prodigal  expenditure, 
such  complete  indifference  to  the  terrible  war 
raging  within  a  few  thousand  yards  of  them, 
such  apparent  forgetful  ness  of  what  must  be 
their  duty,  by  all  these  officers,  shocked  him, 
and  he  felt  like  crying  out  against  it.  Yet 


DOMBKOWSKI   AT   DINNER.  263 

Dombrovvski,  who  was  brave  and  austere 
enough  when  occasion  demanded,  seemed  to 
think  it  all  right.  He  praised  the  songs  of 
the  new-comers,  and  appealed  to  Frank  to  say 
that  they  were  very  fine. 

The  revelry  continued  so  long  that  Frank 
had  quite  given  up  the  hope  of  the  visit  to  the 
Hotel  de  Ville,  thinking  that  the  general  had 
forgotten  it.  But  after  they  had  been  at  the 
table  three  hours,  during  which  the  staff  had 
certainly  consumed  forty  bottles  of  wine, 
Dombrowski  rose,  apparently  as  cool  as  when 
he  had  rescued  Frank  in  the  morning,  and 
said : 

"Now  for  the  visit.  We  will  steal  away 
quietly,  and  leave  these  fellows  to  finish  their 
dessert  and  their  discussion  together." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

AGAIN  THE  HUNCHBACK. 

THE  April  moonlight  was  splendid,  and 
in  spite  of  his  woes,  Frank  could  not 
repress  a  cry  of  admiration  at  the  beautiful 
spectacle  on  the  Rue  de  Rivoli,  as  he  tramped 
along  beside  the  general  under  the  sculptured 
arcades  of  the  old  houses.  The  great  court- 
yard of  the  Tuileries  was  bathed  in  magnifi- 
cent floods  of  light,  which  gave  to  each  antique 
statue  on  its  moss-grown  pedestal,  to  the 
groups  of  flowering  shrubs,  and  to  the 
masses  of  young  leaves  on  the  rows  of  trees 
next  the  Seine,  a  glorious  yet  almost  spectral 
indistinctness. 

As  they  passed  the  street  which  led  by  the 
front  of  the  palace  so  soon  to  become  the 
prey  of  the  flames,  Dombrowski  pointed  to 
it  with  a  contemptuous  gesture,  saying  : 

"My  staff  was  anxious  that  I  should  take 
up  my  headquarters  here,  where  the  emperor 


AGAIN   THE   HUNCHBACK.  265 

so  lately  lived  in  state.  What  do  you  think 
of  that  for  a  proposition  ?  Not  very  modest, 
eh,  these  budding  Republicans  and  So- 
cialists !" 

Frank  hardly  knew  what  to  answer.  He 
began  dimly  to  see  in  the  general  the  combi- 
nation of  two  men  ;  one  the  hard-working, 
energetic  soldier,  democratic  and  anxious  for 
the  welfare  of  the  masses ;  the  other,  the 
[venturer  and  reckless  soldier  of  fortune,  not 
>ng  enough  to  resist  the  luxuries  by  which 
suddenly  found  himself  surrounded.  He 
>uld  not  express  exactly  what  he  thought, 
ind  while  he  was  shaping  it  in  his  mind,  the 

continued : 

"Yes;  and  if  I  had  been  fool  enough   to 
)lace  my  headquarters  in  this  palace,  out  of 
rhich  sovereigns  have  been  driven  so  often,  I 
lould  probably  by  this  time  have  had  the  fish- 
dves  after  me  as  they  were  after  you  this 
lorning."     He    laughed    loudly,   and  as  the 
;hoes  of  his  laughter  died  away  among  the 
ides,  he  turned    suddenly,   facing  toward 
Versailles,  and  listened  intently. 
Frank  pricked  up  his  ears  also,  and  could 


266         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

hear  the  sound  of  an  irregular  crackling  of 
musketry,  punctured,  as  it  were,  now  and 
then  by  the  deep  barking  of  a  cannon. 

"  Another  battle  !  "  said  Frank. 

"  Another  idiot !"  said  the  general.  "The 
man  in  command  over  there  is  determined  to 
throw  away  what  ammunition  he  has  left,  in 
spite  of  my  strict  orders  to  the  contrary.  Do 
you  know,  Frank,"  he  continued,  turning 
impetuously  to  the  boy,  "  I  have  half  a  mind 
to  go  home  and  put  on  citizen's  clothes,  and 
to  walk  out  of  one  of  the  gates,  turning  my 
back  forever  on  this  wretched  city  ?" 

Frank  made  no  answer.  He  was  puzzled  by 
the  general's  demeanor,  which  clearly  indi- 
cated a  contempt  for  the  people  over  a  por- 
tion of  whom  he  was  in  command. 

"They  want  me  to  be  general-in-chief  of 
that!"  said  Dombrowski,  snapping  his  fin- 
gers in  token  of  contempt.  "They  shall  hear  \ 
some  plain  things  at  the  Hotel  De  Ville 
to-night,  if  they  take  my  head  to  pay  for  it. 
Come,  boy  !  "  and  he  strode  away  so  fast  that 
Frank  found  it  hard  to  keep  up  with  him. 

Although  it  was  not  late,  there  were  but 


di- 
ve 

: 


AGAIN   THE   HUNCHBACK.  267 

few  people  on  the  great  avenue,  usually 
thronged  until  midnight  or  one  in  the  morn- 
ing with  lively,  gossiping  promenaders. 

Here  and  there  a  belated  soldier,  hurrying 
to  rejoin  his  battalion,  crept  into  the  shadow 
as  he  caught  a  gleam  of  the  general's  insignia, 
fearing  some  reproach  for  his  tardiness.  A 
few  market-carts,  with  their  canvas  hoods 
drawn  smartly  over  their  great  mounds  of 
vegetables,  and  with  the  men  and  women 

leep  in  the  cosey  seats  at  the  front,  while  the 
orses  from  habit  went  slowly  along  without 
guiding,  were  almost  the  only  evidence  of  life 
which  they  saw.  The  huge  old  mansions  were 
closed  and  silent.  It  was  like  a  city  in  time  of 
invasion  by  an  enemy,  or  during  a  pestilence. 

But  as  they  approached  the  Hotel  de  Ville 
there  were  signs  that  the  Commune,  at  least, 
was  not  asleep.  Lights  gleamed  from  the  win- 
dows of  the  quaint,  ancient  edifice.  On  the 
Place  de  Greve,  where  in  olden  times  so  many 
strange  and  horrible  executions  of  traitors, 
bandits,  and  murderers  had  taken  place,  two 
or  three  companies  of  artillery  were  drawn 
up,  and  a  hoarse  member  of  the  Military  Com- 


268         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

mission,  with  a  crimson  scarf  knotted  abont 
his  waist,  was  haranguing  the  poor,  sleepy 
artillerymen. 

"Hum!"  said  Dombrowski.  "They  are 
sending  more  fools  to  the  front  to  be  slaugh-. 
tered." 

"But,  general,"  cried  Frank,  forgetting  all 
caution  in  his  surprise  at  the  general's  con- 
temptuous remarks,  "don't  you  believe  in 
this  insurrection  ?  Don't  you  hope  and  think 
that  it  will  succeed?" 

The  general's  eyes  twinkled.  He  turned 
and  looked  Frank  clearly  in  the  face.  "I 
will  be  frank  with  yon,  my  boy,"  he  said. 
"I  hope  the  insurrection  will  succeed,  but  I 
know  that  it  will  not." 

"Why,  then,"  cried  the  boy,  "it  is  your 
duty  to  say  so;  is  it  not?" 

A  moment  after,  alarmed  at  his  own  au- 
dacity, and  fearing  lest  he  might  have 
wounded  this  friend  who  had  saved  his  life 
and  was  now  trying  to  find  his  friends,  he 
murmured  : 

"I  am  sorry  I  said  that,  but  I  could  not 
help  it;  it  seemed  to  say  itself,  general." 


: 

sir 


AGAIN  THE  HUNCHBACK.  209 

Dombrowski  was  silent  for  half  a  minute, 
then  he  said  thoughtfully:  "Perhaps  you 
don't  understand,  my  boy.  Soldiers  often 
fight  in  causes  which  they  know  will  fail. 
That  doesn't,  and  certainly  should  not,  hinder 
them  from  doing  their  duty.  My  knowledge 
and  experience  tell  me  that  this  mighty  insur- 
rection is  likely  to  break  in  two  from  its  own 
weight,  and  from  the  evil  elements  that  are 
creeping  into  it  day  by  day.  But  I  will  do 
my  duty  to  the  end  ;  although  I  am  now  and 
then  tempted,  as  I  just  told  you,  to  walk  off 
and  leave  the  idiots  to  stew  in  their  own 
juice." 

They  stood  for  some  time  looking  at  the 
ifice  where  the  Commune  was  doing  its 
nister  work,  and  Frank  brought  a  smile  to 
the  general's  usually  grave  face  by  telling  him 
more  about  the  famous  review  at  which  he 
had  been  present  with  Grandpa  Drubal. 

But,  at  the  mention  of  the  beloved  name 
Frank's  voice  began  to  tremble,  and  the  gen- 
eral felt  the  need  of  hastening  to  discover,  if 
possible,  what  had  become  of  the  old  man  and 
the  little  child. 


270  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

Hurrying  up  the  outer  flight  of  steps,  they 
paused  in  the  first  of  the  three  great  court- 
yards which  the  Hotel  de  Ville  contained. 
The  general  sent  his  name  to  the  person  whom 
he  wished  to  see,  and  reproved  the  insolence 
of  a  half-drunken  sentry  who  was  very 
anxious  to  see  Frank's  "  papers,"—  meaning 
his  passport, — after  which  they  had  a  few  mo- 
ments to  look  around  them.  So  they  strolled 
about,  and  Dombrowski  pointed  to  the  niches 
which  contained  statues  of  celebrated  Paris- 
ians of  all  ages.  Frank's  quick  eye  caught 
the  view  of  Lafayette  in  his  niche.  Dom- 
browski pointed  out  old  Bailly,  who  was  the 
mayor  of  Paris  at  the  outbreak  of  the  great 
Revolution  in  the  last  century. 

The  number  of  these  statues,  the  splendor 
of  the  courtyards,  the  beauty  of  the  huge 
equestrian  statue  of  Henri  IV.  in  bronze, 
the  statue  of  Louis  XIV.  in  Roman  garb,  with 
a  rather  ridiculous  wig  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, all  awoke  Frank's  admiration. 

While  the  general  was  giving  Frank  a  little 
lecture  on  the  horrors  which  the  French  peas- 
antry suffered  when  Louis  XIV.  absorbed 


AGAIN  THE  HUNCHBACK.  271 

everything  for  his  own  glory,  they  heard  the 
sound  of  shuffling  footsteps,  and,  turning, 
found  a  singular  figure  near  them. 

Frank  started  so  violently  that  he  thought 
the  general  must  have  perceived  his  surprise, 
for  the  person  approaching  them  was  the  little 
hunchback  whom  he  had  found  so  often  upon 
his  path  of  late,  and  for  whom  he  had  such  a 
singular  repulsion.  But  the  small  man  did 
not  appear  to  notice  Frank  at  all.  His  shrewd 
face — lit  up  by  a  pair  of  twinkling,  malicious 
eyes,  which  seemed  to  penetrate  one's  very 
thoughts — wore  an  amused  smile,  and  all  its 
attention  was  concentrated  upon  Dombrowski. 

At  first  Frank  thought  it  would  be  best  to 
tell  the  general  everything  that  he  knew  about 
the  little  hunchback.  Then  he  feared  that  it 
might  in  some  way  endanger  his  own  all  too 
precarious  condition,  and  so  he  resolved  to 
await  the  possibility  of  a  recognition. 

The  small  man  was  plainly  dressed  in  rusty 
black.  He  carried  under  one  arm  a  portfolio, 
and  a  bunch,  of  keys  jingled  in  his  disengaged 
hand.  Frank  thought  he  might  be  the  janitor 
of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  but  the  general  saluted 


272  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

him  at  once  as  an  employe  of  the  famous 
Commission  of  General  Safety. 

"Well,  my  good  friends,"  said  the  little 
man,  in  a  rasping  tone,  which  made  the  word 
friend  sound  almost  as  harsh  as  enemy,  "  you 
want  to  know  something  from  me  ;  what  is  HI 
Be  quick  about  it,  for  the  Commune's  time  is 
valuable." 

Frank  was  surprised  to  hear  the  great  gen- 
eral addressed  so  curtly,  but  he  said  nothing. 
The  general  seemed  inclined  for  the  moment 
to  be  humble. 

"Very  sorry  to  disturb  you,  my  worthy 
friend,"  he  said,  "but  two  Americans  have 
disappeared— an  old  man  and  a  little  child. 
Since  noon  to-day  they  are  not  to  be  found. 
My  young  friend  here  is  the  little  boy's 
brother,  and  he  is  naturally  much  distressed. 
Knowing  that  you  have  the  police  of  the  city 
in  your  control,  and  feeling  a  friendly  interest 
in  this  young  man,  I  have  called  to  see  what 
you  can  do  to  help  us,  and  if  you  have  any 
record  of  these  good  people.  My  name  is 
Dombrowsld,  general  of  the  Commune." 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  said  the  little  man.    "  General, 


AGAIN  THE  HUNCHBACK.  273 

to  be  sure.  But  we  see  so  many  generals,  you 
know,  here,"  and  he  laughed  harshly.  "Gen- 
erals come  and  go ;  one  replaces  another  ;  so 
you  must  pardon  me  if  I  did  not  know  you 
at  once." 

"  Yes,"  said  Dombrowski,  whose  temper  was 
beginning  to  feel  the  strain.  "You  are  great 
general-makers  here.  We  soldiers  know  that, 
and  we  know  what  the  result  sometimes  is." 

"Ha!  ha!"  said  the  little  hunchback. 
"I  suppose  you  do,  you  soldiers.  That's 
what  we  make  the  changes  for.  We  want  you 
to  feel  the  results." 

Dombrowski  looked  down  at  the  deformed 
mite,  as  if  speculating  how  long  it  would  take 
to  strangle  him  ;  but  he  bit  his  lips,  and 
after  a  moment  returned  to  the  subject  of 
his  visit. 

"Can  you  help  us  about  these  lost  people, 
citizens  of  a  country  always  friendly  to  us, 
citizen  ? " 

This  word  citizen,  so  pleasant  to  the  Com- 
munist's ear,  seemed  to  make  the  little  hunch- 
back somewhat  more  confiding. 

"  We    shall    see,  citizen  general,  we  shall 

18 


274         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

see,"  he  said,  jingling  his  keys.  "  When  did 
the  Americans  arrive  in  Paris?"  And  now 
the  hunchback  looked  Frank  calmly  in  the 
face  as  if  he  had  not  the  slightest  remem- 
brance of  ever  having  seen  him  before. 

The  general  asked  Frank  this  question,  for 
Frank  could  make  out  but  little  of  the  hunch- 
back's  French ;  and  as  soon  as  the  date  was 
given,  the  little  man  called  a  soldier  and  sent 
him  to  the  office  of  the  Commission  to  look 
over  the  records. 

"While  he  is  searching,"  he  said,  "we 
might  look  about  a  little,  citizen  general. 
You  have  never  seen  all  the  glories  of  this 
famous  mansion,  I  suppose?" 

"Not  all,"  said  the  general.  " Let  us  look, 
by  all  means." 

The  little  hunchback  jingled  his  keys,  and 
presently  led  them  up  a  fine  flight  of  stairs 
into  the  reception  and  ballrooms  on  the  first 
floor.  As  he  opened  the  cloors,  both  Frank 
and  the  general  uttered  cries  of  admiration, 
for  the  whole  splendid  suite  was  lighted  up 
as  if  for  a  great  ball  or  municipal  function  ; 
and  the  rooms  in  which  Paris  had  rivalled  the 


AGAIN   THE   HUNCHBACK.  275 

splendor  of  the  Imperial  palaces,  with  the 
superb  mural  decorations  of  Ingres,  Delacroix, 
Lehmann,  and  Muller,  showed  all  their  beau- 
ties under  the  soft  yet  penetrating  glow. 

"  You  seem  prodigal  of  gas  this  evening," 
said  the  general,  dryly. 

"Citizen  general,"  said  the  hunchback,  with 
a  frown,  "  the  members  of  the  Military  Commis- 
sion contemplate  giving  a  grand  fete  here  in  a 
few  days,  when  you  and  your  comrades  have 
won  some  more  victories,  and  they  are  trying 
the  effect  of  the  lighting  this  evening." 

"Very  good  of  them,  I  am  sure,"  said  the 
general,  "but  I  can't  exactly  see  how  that 
helps  along  our  cause." 

Frank  could  not  help  thinking  of  the 
splendid  dinner  at  which  Dombrowski  had 
just  presided,  and  wondering  whether  or  not 
that  would  help  along  the  cause.  "All  these 
fellows,"  he  thought,  "have  so  much  luxury 
and  splendor  suddenly  left  at  their  dis- 
posal that  they  don't  know  how  to  use  it." 

The  little  hunchback  was  inclined  to  be 
talkative.  "Yes,"  he  said;  "  two  Americans 
disappeared  ?  No  doubt  they  have  com- 


270         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

mitted  some  imprudence.  Who  knows?" 
and  he  laughed  a  kind  of  snarling  laugh, 
and  now  he  looked  at  Frank  in  such  a  pecu- 
liar way  that  the  boy's  blood  seemed  to  run 
cold  for  a  moment. 

"Imprudent  or  not,  citizen,  they  must  be 
found,  and  shall  be,  or  my  name  is  not  Dom- 
browski,"  said  the  general. 

"Certainly,  certainly,  citizen  general,"  said 
the  hunchback,  suddenly  growing  humbler 
in  manner,  "but  so  many  things  happen, 
you  know,  in  these  abnormal  times ;  so  many 
strange  things  happen !  Parbleu !  A  man 
goes  out  to  walk ;  he  never  comes  back  1 
What  are  you  to  say  ?  Who  will  you  blame  ? 
There  are  so  many  strange  things." 

Frank,  who  seemed  to  understand  by  in- 
stinct, felt  like  flying  at  the  little  hunchback's 
throat.  His  hands  trembled ;  yet  he  said 
nothing.  But  the  small  man  did  not  seem  to 
observe  this. 

"Yes,  yes,  citizens,"  continued  the  little 
man  ;  "  the  Commission  will  give  a  great  fete. 
There  will  be  five,  six,  seven  thousand  people 
present,  all  citizens  and  citizenesses  ;  none  of 


.      AGAIN   THE   HUNCHBACK.  277 

your  bourgeois,  grocers,  bakers,  and  butchers, 
but  good  honest  working  people  with  hard 
hands." 

"Like  ours,  for  instance,"  said  the  general 
lightly. 

Now  the  little  hunchback's  hands  were  soft 
and  white,  as  if  he  had  never  done  anything 
but  hold  a  pen  or  a  painter's  brush,  but  he 
did  not  seem  offended.  He  laughed  his 
harsh  laugh,  and  continued  : 

"  The  people  will  rejoice  where  the  tyrants 
of  the  people  used  to  enjoy  themselves.  It 
will  be  very  grand.  In  the  kitchen  below 
there  is  every  facility  for  supplying  a  thou- 
sand people  at  once  with  a  good  dinner. 
We  shall  begin  the  festival  with  a  monster 
banquet  for  a  thousand  people.  Will  not 
that  be  glorious  ? ' ' 

"  Very  fine,"  said  Dombrowski,  "  but  don't 
let  my  soldiers,  who  could  not  get  enough  to 
eat  last  week,  hear  about  it,  or  there  may  be 
some  slight  criticism." 

"Dear  me!"  said  the  hunchback,  "that 
would  be  very  sad.  But  perhaps  some  of  those 
same  soldiers  may  be  invited  to  the  festival, 


278        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

citizen  general.  We  shall  know  bow  to 
choose.  We  shall  choose  so  that  there  may 
not  be  sharp  criticism.  Here,"  he  added, 
"  the  prefect  entertained  the  Emperor  and  the 
Empress  when  the  little  Prince  was  baptized. 
There  were  five  hundred  servants  on  that  oc- 
casion, citizen  general ;  but  we  will  have  a 
thousand  servants!  a  thousand,  I  tell  you" — 
and  he  jingled  his  keys  again. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  shall  not  be  here  to  see  such 
splendor,"  said  Dombrowski,  "but  I  shall  be 
away  fighting  the  enemy — unless  your  Mili- 
tary Commission  removes  me." 

"Yes.  Ha!  ha!  Very  good,  citizen  gen- 
eral," said  the  hunchback.  "  Ha  !  ha  !  Fa- 
mous !  Unless  they  remove  you."  He  looked 
again  at  the  pair  with  that  peculiar  gaze 
which  seemed  a  compound  of  deadly  malice 
and  whimsical  fun,  as  some  strange  animal, 
unconscious  of  its  own  ferociousness,  might 
regard  its  prey. 

They  moved  toward  the  door  by  which  they 
had  entered. 

"  And  let  me  tell  you,"  said  the  hunchback, 
placing  his  white  hand  on  the  general's  arm, 


VI 

i 


AGAIN   THE   HUNCHBACK.  279 

and  pointing  mysteriously  toward  the  floor, 
"we  have  other  things  here  worth  noting, 
citizen  general.  We  have  barrels  of  gunpowder 
here.  We  have  heaps  of  old  rags  and  wood 
Soaked  in  petroleum,  in  all  the  corners  of  the 
cellars,  hidden  away  in  the  corridors.  We 
have  all  the  materials,  ha,  ha !  all  the  arrange- 
ments for  destruction.  We  have  made  up  our 
minds,"  and  his  voice  lowered  to  a  whisper, 
"  that  nobody  shall  ever  have  all  this  splen- 
dor after  us.  Either  it  remains  ours,  citizen 
general,  or  it  goes  up  in  smoke  and  flame  ! " 

The  general  looked  down  at  the  hunchback 
with  a  kind  of  pitying  smile.  He  made  no 
answer.  "  Come,  Frank,"  he  said  in  English, 
"  the  smell  of  all  this  gas  turns  my  head." 

As  they  went  down  the  stairs,  they  found 
the  soldier  who  had  been  sent  to  look  at  the 
records  waiting  for  his  little  master.  There 
was  a  peculiar  smile  on  his  broad  and  wine- 
lumined  features. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

PLOT  AND   COUNTERPLOT. 

rPIHE  soldier  and  the  hunchback  held  a 
-JL  whispered  conference.  Once  or  twice 
the  hunchback  spread  out  his  lean  arms  and 
moved  them  up  and  down  sideways,  like  the 
sails  of  a  windmill,  so  excited  and  angry  was 
he  at  what  the  soldier  was  telling  him. 
Finally,  he  dismissed  the  man  with  an  im- 
perious gesture,  and  turning  to  Dombrowski 
and  Frank,  he  said,  with  a  wicked  smile  light- 
ing up  his  features  with  a  kind  of  unearthly 
glare : 

"It  is  as  I  expected,  citizen  general.  We 
have  no  record  of  the  whereabouts  of  this 
young  man's  friends.  But  that  should  not 
discourage  you  from  the  search."  He  smiled 
again.  "  So  many  things  happen,  you  know, 
in  time  of  Avar." 

"What  does  he  say?"  cried  Frank,  furi- 
ously. "Whatever  it  is,  I  don't  believe  it." 


PLOT  AND   COUNTERPLOT.  281 

Luckily  for  Frank,  the  little  hunchback  did 
not  understand  what  Frank  said,  but  he 
gathered  enough  from  the  boy's  manner  to 
make  him  bestow  upon  him  another  of  his 
blood-curdling  smiles.  Then  he  said : 

"The  youth  is  naturally  worried.  But  how 
long  have  these  good  people  been  lost  ?  Only 
a  few  hours?  There  is  nothing  alarming 
about  that.  Some  people  search  for  weeks 
before  they  discover  their  lost  ones." 

Dombrowski  had  placed  himself  between 
Frank  and  the  hunchback,  and  he  held  the 
boy  by  the  arm  with  a  strong  grip,  for  he 
feared  that  some  imprudent  expression  might 
injure  them  both.  In  polite  tones  he  said 
to  the  little  hunchback : 

"Very  well,  citizen.  If  the  Commission  of 
Public  Safety  cannot  guarantee  the  security  of 
strangers  in  the  capital,  even  in  time  of  insur- 
rection, it  ought  to  be  reformed.  But  as  I 
have  no  authority  to  reform  it,  I  will  bid  you 
good-evening." 

The  hunchback  grew  quite  pale.  His  eyes 
sparkled,  and  he  looked  at  Dombrowski  with 
a  singularly  malicious  expression. 


282        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"The  Commission  of  Public  Safety,"  he 
said,  "is  quite  able  to  respond  for  the  security 
of  strangers  of  all  kinds,  even  those  who  wear 
uniforms,  when  it  becomes  necessary.  Yes ; 
as  to  security,  I  think  our  Commission  can 
respond  for  that." 

Dombrowski  understood.  He  knew  that 
many  men  of  inferior  position  daily  de- 
nounced their  superiors,  and  managed  to  get 
them  sent  to  prison,  and  he  did  not  despise 
this  threat  from  the  vindictive  and  deformed 
creature  whose  dignity  he  had  offended. 

"Come,  come,  citizen,"  he  said,  "let  us 
have  no  heat  about  this  matter.  I  am  simply 
making  an  enquiry,  as  an  act  of  mercy,  for 
this  poor  boy,  who  is  quite  distracted  at  being 
left  alone  in  such  a  place  and  at  such  a  time. 
How  would  you  feel  in  a  foreign  city,  between 
two  contending  armies,  without  money  and 
without  friends?" 

"Oh,  I  should  manage  to  get  out  of  the 
scrape,"  croaked  the  hunchback,  "and  so  will 
this  fellow."  He  stepped  around  and  patted 
Frank  approvingly  on  the  back.  "Let  him 
put  on  the  uniform  of  the  Commune,  ~ 


PLOT   AND   COUNTERPLOT.  283 

shoulder  a  musket,  and  lie  may  be  a  hero  of 
the  new  war  for  humanity." 

"Very  well,  citizen,"  said  Dombrowski; 
"  the  boy  shall  want  for  nothing  so  long  as  I 
can  take  care  of  him.  In  the  meantime,  no 
offence,  I  suppose,  if  I  make  further  enquiries 
of  your  Commission  ;  through  you,  of  course," 
he  added. 

"  When  we  have  anything  to  communicate 
concerning  the  two  people,"  said  the  hunch- 
back, showing  his  teeth  like  a  hyena,  "  we 
will  send  word  to  your  headquarters  at  once — 
if  you  are  still  general,"  he  added,  with  a 
politeness  which  was  almost  as  galling  as  an 
open  insult  would  have  been. 

Dombrowski  turned  upon  him  quickly. 
"Enough  of  that,  my  good  friend,"  he  said. 
"I  may  be  general-in-chief  in  a  few  days,  and 
should  such  dignity  be  vested  in  my  poor 
person,  you  shall  hear  of  me  again.  Good- 
light." 

"Ha!  ha!"  said  the  hunchback,  as  they 
stepped  down  into  the  corridor.  "Yes,  cit- 

m  general,  we  may  hear  of  you  again." 

Frank  and  his  protector  went  out  into  the 


284        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

night  with  a  strange  feeling  of  unrest  and 
of  injustice  in  their  hearts.  Some  curious  in- 
stinct told  the  boy  that  they  had  been  denied 
information  which  might  have  brought  his 
loved  ones  back  to  him  ;  and  Dombrowski, 
although  he  would  not  have  admitted  it  to 
Frank,  felt  the  same  conviction. 

Gradually  he  made  up  his  mind  that 
Grandpa  Drubal  had  incurred  the  displeasure 
of  the  Commune  for  some  reason  best  known 
to  that  dread  power  itself,  and  had  either 
been  expelled  from  the  city  or  arrested, 
naturally  taking  little  Will  with  him.  He 
determined  that  the  mystery  should  be 
cleared  up  within  the  next  forty-eight  hours, 
even  if  it  cost  him  his  position.  "I  will 
inform  the  consul  of  my  suspicion,"  he  said 
to  himself,  "and  he  may  set  his  machinery  to 
work." 

Then  the  bitter  thought  came  to  him  : 
"  Why  should  the  consul  listen  to  me  ?  I  am 
almost  an  outlaw,  proscribed  by  the  nation  to 
which  the  consul  is  accredited,  and  in  his  eyes 
an  adventurer  liable  to  be  shot  against  a  stone 
wall  within  the  next  six  weeks.  I  could 


PLOT  AND  COUNTERPLOT.  285 

probably  neither  convince  nor  frighten  him 
into  making  an  energetic  search.  What  is  to 
be  done?" 

They  were  moving  slowly  across  the  great 
Place  de  Greve  when  they  heard  hur- 
ried footsteps  behind  them.  Dombrowski 
turned,  and  saw  a  slouching  orderly  hasten- 
ing up.  The  man  saluted,  and  said  in  a  low 
voice : 

"If  you  are  the  Citizen  General  Dom- 
browski, your  presence  is  at  once  requested 
before  the  Military  Commission." 

Dombrowski,  although  accustomed  to  all 
kinds  of  surprises,  was  a  little  startled  by  this 
announcement,  which  confirmed  a  dread  that 
had  been  growing  on  him  for  weeks — the 
dread  that  either  jealousy  or  suspicion  was 
to  cause  his  arrest  or  dismissal.  The  Commis- 
sion of  Public  Safety  and  the  Military  Com- 
mission had  mysterious  and  intimate  rela- 
tions, and  anything  done  to  offend  the  one 
was  liable  to  be  resented  by  the  other.  Had 
he  fallen  into  a  trap? 

"Lead  on,"  he  said  to  the  soldier.  "I 
am  always  happy  to  obey  any  order  of  the 


286        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

citizen  commissioners.  Follow  me,  Frank," 
he  said,  "I  have  to  go  before  my  superiors; 
we  may  see  some  fun." 

They  re-entered  the  Hotel  de  Yille,  and  at 
the  end  of  a  long  corridor  came  upon  a  court- 
yard, out  of  which  opened  several  offices  filled 
with  uniformed  officials,  most  of  whom  were 
dozing  with  their  feet  upon  tables  and  their 
caps  drawn  over  their  eyes.  In  one  corner  of 
a  brilliantly  lighted  little  room  five  or  six  men 
were  seated  about  a  card  table  playing  piquet, 
and  drinking  red  wine  out  of  glass  pitchers. 
Just  beyond  this  room  was  a  dark  and  dusky 
passage,  at  the  further  end  of  which  the  trio 
came  upon  a  door  marked,  "Military  Com- 
mission." 

"Enter,  citizen  general,"  said  the  soldier. 

"  After  you,  citizen,"  said  the  general. 

And  with  these  little  exercises  in  Parisian 
politeness  they  passed  in.  Frank  sank  down 
in  a  chair  near  the  door  in  a  dark  corner.  The 
room  was  dimly  lighted,  and  when  they  en- 
tered it  was  occupied  by  only  one  man,  who 
sat  at  a  table  covered  with  a  green  cloth, 
intently  regarding  a  map.  As  they  came  in, 


PLOT   AND   COUNTERPLOT.  287 

he  leaped  up,  and  stood  with  one  long  finger 
still  placed  upon  the  map. 

The  face  he  turned  toward  the  visitors  was 
that  of  a  man  still  young,  but  it  was  already 
old  with  passion  and  self-indulgence.  There 
was  little  of  capacity  in  it,  much  of  cunning 
and  ruse.  It  was  a  face  to  be  afraid  of. 

"  Have  you  brought  the  general  with  you?" 
said  he,  addressing  the  soldier. 

"I  am  here,"  said  Dombrowski.  "Much at 
your  service,  citizen  commissioner." 

The  commissioner's  face  took  on  a  savage 
scowl. 

"General,"  he  said,  "the  Commission  is 
not  pleased  with  your  recent  work.  It  is  glad 
to  have  an  opportunity  to  tell  you  so.  Hear- 
ing that  you  were  engaged  with  some  of  my 
colleagues,  I  thought  it  well  to  call  you  before 
us,  and  to  say  that  you  must  be  more  active. 
I  don't  say  that  you  are  not  a  good  tac- 
tician, nor  insinuate  that  your  delays  are  not 
sometimes  necessary,  but  we  must  have  more 
action.  You  must  go  to  the  front  at  once  and 
remain  there,  and  have  some  kind  of  a  fight 
every  day.  Every  day,  citizen  general,  do 


288        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

you  understand?"  he  repeated.  "Have  you 
anything  to  say  in  reply  ? " 

"Nothing,"  said  Dombrowski  dryly,  "ex- 
cept that,  if  there  is  no  one  to  fight  with,  we 
must  fight  among  ourselves.  Do  I  understand 
you  to  advise  that?" 

"  You  are  to  understand  me,  citizen  general, 
as  not  countenancing  any  jokes,"  said  the 
citizen  commissioner;  "and  the  sooner  you 
are  convinced  of  that,  the  better.  Do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  that  the  Versaillists  hide 
themselves  and  will  not  fight?" 

"  I  mean  to  say,"  replied  Dombrowski,  in  a 
very  decided  tone,  "  that  the  enemy  asks  only 
to  crush  us.  It  will  not  fight  in  skirmishes  to 
waste  its  men,  but  would  rather  tempt  us  to 
open  engagement,  in  which  we  should  proba- 
bly, in  our  present  condition,  be  beaten.  I 
speak,  of  course,  about  my  own  line  of  de- 
fence. I  know  little  of  what  the  other  gen- 
erals are  doing.  I  know  what  I  would  do  if  I 
had  supreme  command." 

"  And  what  would  that  be,  citizen  gen- 
eral?" said  the  commissioner. 

"I  would  expel  all  the  drones  and  the  in- 


PLOT   AND   COUNTERPLOT.  289 

capables  from  the  array,  and  I  would  make  a 
vigorous  attempt  to  dislodge  the  enemy  from 
its  positions  in  front  of  two  or  three  of  our 
forts.  For,  when  they  get  possession  of  these 
forts  the  Commune  will  be  dead." 

The  commissioner's  manner  became  more 
agreeable.  A  smile  replaced  the  scowl. 

"It  is  strange,  citizen  general,"  lie  said, 
"  that  your  words  express  my  own  convic- 
tions. Tencz!  I  was  just  studying  the  map 
and  saying  to  myself  what  you  have  said.  It 
is  strange !" 

"Not  so  strange,  citizen  commissioner," 
said  Dombrowski,  with  a  delicate  shade  of 
flattery  in  his  tone;  "for  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  you  have  the  military  sentiment." 

The  commissioner  left  the  table  and  came 
forward.  "  Listen  to  me,  citizen  general,"  he 
said :  "  there  are  daily  complaints  and  de- 
nunciations of  you.  I  am  convinced  that  they 
are  groundless.  See,  I  have  received  one  just 
now.  It  is  but  a  few  minutes  old  ;  yet  I  shall 
burn  it.  My  colleagues  shall  know  nothing 
of  it,  and  I  will  even  tell  you  that  it  comes 
from " 

19 


290         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Dombrowski  interrupted  him,  smiling: 
"From  the  Commission  of  Public  Safety,  I 
will  be  sworn."  The  general  felt  convinced 
that  the  little  hunchback  had  played  him  this 
trick. 

"  Precisely :  from  the  Commission  of  Public 
Safety.  It  is  one  of  those  vague,  mysterious 
accusations,  of  which  we  receive  thousands 
about  everybody.  What  a  jealous,  mischie- 
vous lot  our  Commune  must  be  !  But,  see  !  I 
burn  the  paper."  He  held  it  over  the  lamp, 
and  it  was  reduced  to  ashes.  "Don't  mind 
what  I  said  about  your  delays.  I  think  you 
can  count  on  our  support  of  you  for  general- 
in-chief ;  not  just  now,  but  soon.  Good-night, 
citizen  general.  I  intended  to  have  a  long 
talk  with  you,  but — you  have  opened  my 
eyes.  When  you  get  your  promotion,  I  shall 
want  to  see  you  again.  Take  my  advice,  and 
go  to  the  front  at  once — to-night,  if  possible." 

The  citizen  commissioner  did  not  even  deign 
to  notice  Frank,  who  followed  Dombrowski 
out,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  once  more  in 
the  Place  the  boy  could  not  help  asking: 

"  Is  anything    wrong,   general  ?    I  hope  I 


PLOT   AND   COUNTERPLOT.  291 

have  not  been  the  means  of  getting  you  into 
trouble?" 

Dombrowski  laughed  merrily.  "Nothing 
wrong !  No,  my  boy ;  nothing  but  your 
trouble  now  to  preoccupy  us.  Yet  see  what 
a  labyrinth  this  Commune  is  !  Would  you 
believe  that  the  citizen  commissioner  sent 
for  me  to  reprimand  me,  punish  me,  perhaps 
throw  me  into  prison  ;  and  that  he  had  in  his 
hand  a  denunciation  sent  to  him  by  that  infa- 
mous little  hunchback  even  while  our  foot- 
steps were  still  ringing  in  his  ears ;  but  that, 
instead  of  punishing  me,  he  promised  me 
new  dignities  and  honors  ?  Strange  people ! 
Strange  Commune !  Strange  insurrection ! 
Come,  let  us  hurry  back  to  the  Place  Ven- 
dome,  take  the  citizen  commissioner's  advice, 
and  be  off  to  the  front.  But — I  was  forget- 
ting your  trouble." 

He  turned  and  laid  his  hand  upon  Frank's 
shoulder. 

"Listen,  my  boy,"  he  said,  "you  are  old 
enough  to  accept  misfortune  without  weeping 
and  wailing.  We  are  going  to  try  once  more 
to  find  your  grandfather  and  your  little 


292         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

brother  from  the  proper  authorities,  your 
consul,  your  minister,  or  ambassador,  or 
whatever  you  call  him,  if  needs  be.  If  that 
fails,  we  can  do  no  more.  The  Commission 
of  Public  Safety  will  tell  us  if  it  has  anything 
to  communicate.  In  the  meantime,  nothing 
that  you  can  do  will  help.  Will  you  go  with 
me  and  be  my  guest  until  better  times, 
trusting  to  me  to  do  all  that  I  can  in  your 
cause?" 

Frank  looked  up  at  him  with  shining  eyes. 
"I  have  no  right  to  ask  anything  of  you," 
he  said.  "You  have  been  very  kind  to  me. 
Surely  the  consul  will  see  me  safely  through 
this  affair,  and  I  have  a  little  money  left, 
although,"  he  added  faintly,  "it  isn't  much. 
But  if  Grandpa  Drubal  isn't  found,  we  must 
telegraph  to  his  banker  in  America.  There's 
nobody  else  who  could  be  of  any  use  to  us 
over  there." 

"  Yes,"  said  Dombrowski ;  "  but  in  view  of 
what  is  likely  to  happen  within  the  next  few 
days,  I  entreat  you  to  take  my  advice  and 
remain  with  me.  You  will  be  safer  than  with 
the  consul,  for  the  consul  cannot  respond  for 


PLOT  AND   COUNTERPLOT.  293 

his  own  safety.  Who  knows  what  may 
happen?" 

They  were  still  discussing  this  view  of  the 
matter  when  they  got  back  to  the  door  of  the 
mansion  in  the  Place  Vendome.  The  doors 
leading  into  the  courtyard  were  wide  open, 
and  the  court  was  filled  with  a  noisy  and 
menacing  mob  of  men  and  women.  Gaunt 
figures  with  red  Liberty  caps  on,  with  naked 
swords  in  their  hands,  were  running  up  and 
down  the  marble  stairs.  From  the  apart- 
ments on  the  first  floor  came  shrieks  of  angry 
women  ;  and  confusion  reigned  throughout 
the  place. 

"What  is  this?"  cried  Dombrowski,  lay- 
ing his  hand  on  his  sword  and  springing 
forward.  "Stick  closely  to  me,  Frank.  We 
must  get  up  these  stairs  without  being  hin- 
dered by  any  of  these  people." 

He  strode  into  the  courtyard,  jingling  his 
spurs,  and  looking  neither  to  the  right  nor 
to  the  left.  Frank  put  on  a  bold  face  and 
marched  beside  him. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

DOMBROWSKI  ADOPTS  FRANK. 

THE  general's  caution  to  Frank  was  not 
a  vain  one.  Just  as  they  were  entering 
the  antechamber  on  the  first  floor  a  throng  of 
drunken  men  and  women  came  rushing  out  of 
the  room  beyond,  and  Frank  would  have  been 
thrown  down  and  trampled  upon  if  he  had  not 
clung  resolutely  to  the  general's  arm. 

The  general  caught  Frank  by  the  shoulder, 
and  wheeled  him  around.  They  went  with 
the  crowd  a  few  steps ;  then  the  general 
pulled  the  boy  sharply  to  one  side  and  opened 
a  little  door.  "In  with  you,  quick!"  he 
said.  "If  those  creatures  recognize  me,  they 
might  do  us  both  a  mischief." 

They  stood  in  a  small  closet  used  as  a  ward- 
robe, and  for  the  storage  of  wood  for  the  fires 
in  winter.  The  door,  old-fashioned  and  thick, 
swung  inward.  The  general  shut  it  and 
leaned  against  it,  and  they  remained  in  this 


DOMBROWSKI   ADOPTS   FRANK.  295 

airless  hole,  panting  and  listening  with  all 
their  might  for  the  sound  of  the  last  retreating 
footsteps.  At  last  they  came  out  of  their  con- 
cealment, and  hurried  forward  into  the  dining- 
room  where  Frank  and  the  general  had  so 
lately  sat  side  by  side. 

Frank  uttered  a  cry  of  amazement.  Every- 
thing in  the  magnificent  room  was  in  wreck 
and  ruin.  The  beautiful  silver  candelabra 
were  twisted  and  broken.  The  plate  and  the 
crystal  were  lying  in  confusion  upon  the 
polished  floor.  Wine-stains  disfigured  the 
superb  damask  cloths.  The  tapestries  were 
slit  as  if  by  sword-thrusts ;  and  the  mantel- 
piece, so  rich  with  its  incrustations  and  carv- 
ings, was  broken  and  defaced. 

Dombrowski  gave  a  long  and  loud  whistle. 
Then  he  turned  to  Frank  with  a  curious  smile 
on  his  lips. 

"  We  need  not  go  far,"  he  said,  "  to  search 
for  the  authors  of  this  mischief." 

Frank's  astonished  look  showed  that  he 
could  not  conceive  how  or  why  anyone  could 
have  done  such  barbarous  deeds. 

"Don't  you  see,  my  little  friend,"  said  the 


296         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

general,  "that  this  is  the  vengeance  of  onr 
neighbors  of  the  Communist  club  out  of 
whose  hands  I  fished  you  a  few  honrs  ago? 
I'll  wager  my  sword  that  that  big  fish  wife  has 
been  carousing  here  while  we  have  been  cool- 
ing our  heels  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville." 

"But  what  good  would  that  do  them?" 
said  Frank,  more  and  more  astonished. 

The  general  laughed  loudly.  '*  When  you 
have  seen  a  little  more  of  the  insurrection," 
he  said,  "  you  will  understand  that  people  do 
mischief  from  malice,  not  from  desire  to  im- 
prove their  condition.  Now,  let  us  see  if  my 
suspicions  are  not  correct." 

In  a  corner  of  the  great  hall  they  found 
a  frightened  servant,  half  fainting,  on  a  chair. 
When  Dombrowski  approached  him  he  put 
up  his  hands  feebly,  as  if  expecting  to  be 
murdered,  and  imploring  mercy.  He  had 
been  severely  beaten,  and  it  was  only  after 
much  difficulty  and  coaxing  that  the  general 
got  from  him  the  story. 

"We  were  just  clearing  the  table,"  said  the 
servant,  "perhaps  half  an  hour  after  you  and 
this  young  gentleman  had  left,  and  some  of 


DOMBROWSKI   ADOPTS   FRANK.  297 

the  officers  were  settling  down  in  a  corner  for 
a  game  of  cards,  when  there  came  the  most 
diabolical  racket  on  the  stairs,  and  before  we 
could  say  ten  words  the  room  was  filled  with 
five  or  six  hundred  'delegates'  from  the  great 
club  which  meets  in  the  church  over  yonder. 
A  pretty  set  they  were — women  in  their  blue 
aprons,  with  their  arms  bare  and  their  cheeks 
flushed  with  wine  ;  some  of  them  carrying 
knives— and  one  old  creature  had  a  bayonet ! 
With  them  they  had  a  hundred  of  the  worst- 
looking  cut-throats  man  ever  saw.  They 
began  by  accusing  you,  general — saving  your 
respect — of  too  much  luxury  when  you  ought 
to  be  fighting  the  enemy,  and  then  they 
smashed  right  and  left!" 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Master  Frank?" 
said  the  general. 

Frank  felt  abashed,  and  began  to  murmur 
excuses  for  having  been  the  innocent  cause  of 
so  much  trouble. 

"Not  a  bit!"  said  the  general.  "Could 
I  do  otherwise  than  take  you  out  of  the 
clutches  of  those  fiends  ?  They  have  had  their 
revenge,  and  they  have  dared  me,"  he  said, 


298         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

looking  thoughtfully  at  the  widespread 
ruin.  He  did  not  speak  again  for  some 
moments.  Then  he  added  in  a  low,  deep 
voice:  "Yes,  they  have  had  their  revenge, 
but  they  have  taught  us  a  good  lesson. 
We  will  try  to  profit  by  it.  But  first  let  us 
make  sure  that  there  are  none  lingering  about 
here." 

The  vindictive  delegates  from  the  club  had 
gone  as  quickly  as  they  had  come.  "All 
they  wanted,  general,  was  to  give  you  a  warn- 
ing, so  they  said,"  continued  the  servant. 
"The  members  of  the  staff  are  very  much  dis- 
turbed. I  won't  say  they  were  frightened, 
but,  certainly,  if  they  had  made  any  protest, 
they  would  all  have  been  killed." 

"Hum!"  said  the  general.  "Where  are 
these  worthy  warriors  of  mine?" 

"They  are  all  in  the  little  room  next  to 
your  bedroom,  general,  and  I  think  they  are 
holding  some  kind  of  a  consultation." 

"Come,  Frank,"  said  the  general,  "let  us 
have  this  matter  settled,"  and  he  strode  along 
the  dining-room  through  the  wreck  of  the 
luxurious  ornaments  of  the  dining- table,  and 


DOMBROWSKI   ADOPTS   FRANK.  299 

led  Frank  by  a  side  door  and  a  private  stair- 
case up  to  bis  bedroom. 

A  hum  of  voices  in  the  next  room  announced 
that  the  servant's  conjecture  was  right.  Dom- 
browski  listened  grimly  for  half  a  minute, 
then  he  knocked  loudly  on  the  wall.  The 
door  opened,  and  the  frightened  face  of  one  of 
the  young  officers  peeked  in. 

"Heaven  be  praised,  general!"  he  said. 
"'We  thought  you  were  certainly  killed." 

"And  I  suppose  you  were  already  electing 
my  successor,"  said  Dombrowski  gruffly. 
"Come  here,  all  of  you,  and  listen!  It  is 
your  nonsense  and  folly,  of  which  I  have  long 
been  too  indulgent,  that  has  brought  this 
visitation  upon  us!"  he  shouted,  as  the 
officers  came  crowding  in.  "This  matter 
must  be  patched  up  as  best  it  may,  and  we 
must  take  the  hint  given  us  by  these  creatures 
of  the  club,  or  our  uniforms,  with  our  forms 
inside  of  them,  may  be  decorating  some  of  the 
neighboring  lamp-posts  within  the  next  few 
days.  Do  you  understand?  Don't  you  see 
that  we  are  in  the  hands  of  the  mob,  which 
cares  about  as  much  for  our  military  authority 


300         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

and  our  decorations  as  it  cares  for  a  sparrow 
which  flies  across  its  track.  Wake  up,  gentle- 
men, and  prepare  for  serious  business !  I 
have  just  come  from  the  Military  Commission. 
Bushels  of  denunciations  are  poured  in  there 
against  us  every  day." 

The  officers  looked  at  each  other  with  con- 
sternation written  on  their  faces.  One  of 
them  tried  to  speak,  but  his  voice  stuck  in  his 
throat. 

"  I  tell  you,"  shouted  Dombrowski,  pound- 
ing on  the  little  table  in  front  of  which  he  sat, 
"that  we  are  all  dead  men  unless  we  strike 
a  decisive  blow  for  the  Commune  within  the 
next  few  days!  Do  you  understand  that? 
Is  it  plain  enough  for  you  ?  Now,  no  prattle ! 
I  see  that  my  meaning  has  penetrated 
through  the  trappings  of  luxury.  We  are  all 
ashamed  of  ourselves,  but  we  will  admit  that 
to  ourselves  alone.  Now,  to  horse !  Bring 
yourselves  into  shape  for  action.  Let  me  see 
you"— he  drew  out  his  watch— "it  is  half- 
past  eleven  o'clock— let  me  see  you  in  the 
square  on  horseback,  and  ready  to  trot,  at  mid- 
night exactly." 


DOMBROWSKI   ADOPTS   FRANK.  301 

There  was  something  of  the  leader  in  his 
demeanor  at  last,  thought  Frank.  His  eyes 
sparkled  as  he  heard  the  general's  ringing 
voice,  and  as  he  saw  the  electrical  effect  it 
had  upon  the  officers.  He  did  not  know  what 
he  said,  but  here  was  a  man  who  could  com- 
mand. 

"If  I  were  him,"  thought  Frank,  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  "I  would  not  leave  Paris 
for  the  front  before  I  had  given  those  people 
at  the  club  a  little  taste  of  what  I  could  do 
when  I  had  my  back  up." 

As  if  the  general  had  read  the  boy's 
thoughts,  he  turned  to  him  at  that  moment, 
and  as  the  officers  were  going  from  the  room, 
he  whispered  : 

"Now,  Master  Frank,  I  will  show  you  that 
although  I  know  how  to  receive  a  lesson,  I 
also  understand  how  to  resent  an  insult." 

A  moment  after,  he  added  :  "  My  boy,  the 
moment  to  decide  has  come.  We  are  leaving 
Paris  to-night,  and  although  we  shall  not  be 
many  miles  from  it,  we  may  not  return  into 
the  city  for  a  month.  Everything  may  be 
>s  and  confusion  here  for  weeks  ;  or,"  he 


302         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

continued,  "we  may  be  back  here  in  a  few 
days.  I  will  promise  you  faithfully  to  keep 
up  the  search  for  your  lost  friends.  In  the 
meantime,  is  it  not  better  that  you  should 
come  with  me?" 

Frank  did  not  know,  and  he  said  so  can- 
didly. Alone  in  the  great  city,  baffled  and 
confused  by  the  unsuccessful  efforts  of  the 
day,  he  felt  uncertain  as  to  his  future  course. 

"Come,"  said  the  general  kindly.  "  I  will 
take  you  to  my  headquarters  in  the  field,  and 
I  can  send  you  back  at  any  time  with  a  safe 
conduct  if  we  hear  anything,  or  if  you  de- 
sire to  continue  the  search  yourself.  Stop  a 
minute  ;  can  you  ride  ?  " 

Frank  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  "  What, 
horseback?"  he  said.  "Of  course.  I  could 
do  that  when  I  was  five  years  old." 

"  Good  ! "  said  the  general.  "  All  that  you 
need  for  your  equipment  is  a  Communist  cap. 
Here  is  a  belt  to  put  around  your  waist,  and 
you  will  have  a  uniform  much  more  regular 
than  some  that  you  will  see  in  the  field.  Now 
I  will  scratch  you  a  bit  of  paper  which  will 
make  you  perfectly  safe  in  our  lines.  But 


DOMBROWSKI   ADOPTS   FRANK.  303 

you  must  take  care  not  to  get  into  the  lines  of 
the  enemy." 

"I  will  do  my  best,"  said  Frank  bravely. 
He  tried  on  the  cap,  which  fitted  him  very 
well ;  and  as  he  took  up  the  belt  and  adjusted 
it,  it  suddenly  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  had 
grown  much  older. 

He  felt  a  sense  of  loneliness  and  of  inde- 
pendence. He  could  not  shake  off  his  great 
grief,  which  weighed  heavily  upon  him  ;  but 
there  was  something  exciting  and  fascinating 
in  this  life  of  an  adventurer,  full  though  it  was 
of  deadly  danger,  upon  which  he  was  just  en- 
tering at  midnight  in  the  guardianship  of  a 
man  whom  he  had  known  but  a  few  hours — in 
a  strange  city,  thousands  of  miles  from  home. 

Dombrowski  was  writing  orders  in  his  de- 
spatch-book, and  presently  he  rang  the  bell 
and  sent  off  several  despatches.  "Now,"  he 
said  to  Frank,  "get  a  few  moments  of  rest. 
You  will  find  a  horse  saddled  and  ready  when 
we  meet  at  the  door  at  midnight.  Ah,  here 
is  a  friend  you  may  find  useful!"  and  he 
took  from  a  drawer  a  handsome  pistol,  assured 
himself  that  it  was  loaded,  and  handed  it  to 


304        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Frank.  "Put  that  in  your  pocket,"  lie  said. 
"You  might  meet  with  marauders  or  vaga- 
bonds when  we  are  once  outside  the  fortifi- 
cations." 

Frank  obeyed. 

"I  think,"  said  the  general,  jingling  his 
spurs  with  vigor  as  he  left  the  room,  "  that 
our  friends  in  the  club  will  have  a  little  sur- 
prise, if  they  are  still  in  session." 

"Still  in  session,  late  at  night?"  said 
Frank.  "Why,  do  they  talk  night  and 
day?" 

"Night  sessions  are  the  most  exciting," 
said  the  general.  "Sometimes  two  or  three 
thousand  persons  gather  in  a  church,  light 
it  up  brilliantly,  and  stay  there  all  night 
haranguing  about  that  of  which  they  know 
absolutely  nothing.  Now  and  then  they 
have  orgies  there,  dance,  and  drink  wine." 

"  In  the  church  ? "  said  Frank,  in  a  tone  of 
horror. 

"Certainly,"  said  Dombrowski.  "Have  you 
not  been  told  that  all  religion  is  suspended, 
that  churches  are  closed  to  worshippers,  that 
the  priests  are  driven  away,  and  that  only  the 


DOMBROWSKI   ADOPTS  FRANK.  305 

sort  of  folks  we  saw  this  morning  frequent 
them  now  ?  A  fine  state  of  affairs,  isn't  it  ? " 
Frank  was  silent.  He  began  to  understand 
that  the  general  had  a  deep  contempt  for  the 
gross  and  vulgar  errors  of  the  insurrection  for 
which  he  was  fighting. 

Frank  started  up  suddenly  from  the  little 
doze  into  which  he  had  fallen.  He  heard  the 
sound  of  a  bugle,  clear  and  musical,  in  the 
square.  There  was  a  heavy  tramp  of  feet,  in 
rhythmical  motion,  near  by.  Now  came  the 
clatter  of  horses'  hoofs. 

Frank  stretched  himself,  jumped  up,  and 
opened  the  window.  The  cool  night  air 
rushed  in.  With  it  came  a  sound  of  the 
noise  of  sabres,  of  champing  on  their  bits 
by  horses.  A  moment  later,  the  voice  of 
Dombrowski  was  heard,  calling  loudly  : 

"  Come,  Master  Frank  !  we  are  waiting ! " 

He  adjusted  his  cap,  which  was  still  on  his 
head  when  he  had  fallen  asleep,  assured  him- 
self that  his  pistol  was  in  his  pocket,  and, 
leaving  the  light  burning,  hurried  to  join  the 
general. 
20 


306         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

Dombrowski  laid  a  light  cape  cloak  over  the 
boy's  arm.  "I  had  forgotten  to  give  you 
this,"  he  said.  "Fasten  it  to  your  saddle, 
you  will  need  it  before  we  reach  our  stopping 
place;  the  early  morning  hours  are  cool.  Now 
then,  you  have  nothing  to  fear,  and  if  I  read 
you  aright,  you  do  not  know  how  to  be  afraid." 

In  the  square  the  officers  of  the  staff, 
mounted  and  presenting  a  decent  military 
appearance,  respectfully  awaited  the  general. 

Frank  saw  that  the  horses  were  good,  and 
that  the  one  chosen  for  him  was  just  such  a 
one  as  he  would  have  picked  out  for  himself  ; 
a  thin,  wiry  mare,  capable  of  covering  many 
miles  at  unbroken  speed ;  a  handsome  crea- 
ture, with  quivering  nostrils,  beautiful  dark 
eyes,  and  long  full  mane  and  tail. 

"  What  a  splendid  mare  ! "  said  the  boy. 

"An  old  cavalry  horse  that  has  done  good 
service  in  the  regular  army,"  said  Dom- 
browski. "I'll  wager  I  could  find  the  govern- 
ment brand  on  her  flanks  now.  It  would  not 
do  for  you  to  be  captured  on  that  mare,"  he 
said,  with  a  laugh.  "She  would  be  your 
condemnation." 


DOMBROWSKI   ADOPTS   FRANK.  307 

And  now  the  bugle  was  heard  again.  Frank 
saw  with  surprise  a  battalion  of  infantry 
come  marching  out  of  the  shadow  and  halt, 
awaiting  orders.  "Do  you  see  those  fel- 
lows?" said  Dombrowski  to  Frank,  as  he 
swung  into  the  saddle.  "  I  am  going  to  sur- 
round our  friends  at  the  club,  and  give  them 
such  a  scare  that  they  won't  forget  it  as  long 
as  they  live." 

In  spite  of  his  many  sorrows,  Frank  could 
not  repress  a  laugh.  It  rang  out  on  the 
night  air  with  its  boyish  freshness  and 
vigor,  and  provoked  the  general  to  laughter 
also. 

"You  won't  be  sorry  to  see  your  persecu- 
tors get  a  good  scare  ;  will  you,  Frank  ? " 

"I  don't  think  it  will  hurt  my  feelings  very 
much,"  said  the  boy. 

The  general  gave  the  word  of  command. 
He  whispered  to  an  officer  of  the  staff,  who 
fell  into  line  beside  Frank,  and,  addressing 
him  in  broken  English,  recommended  him  to 
keep  near  him  as  they  trotted  along. 

The  bugle  sounded,  the  battalion  took  up 
the  march,  and  the  whole  company  was  soon 


308         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

threading  its  way  through  the  narrow  and 
winding  streets  in  which  Frank  had  been 
lost  before  his  adventure  at  the  club. 

Fifteen  minutes  later  .they  were  in  front  of 
the  church  door.  The  infantry  spread  out 
into  lines,  surrounding  the  isolated  sides  of 
the  edifice,  and  Dombrowski  and  his  staff, 
hastily  dismounting,  thrust  aside  the  leather 
curtain  in  the  doorway,  and  strode  in. 
Frank  was  first  in  the  ranks,  and  would 
have  been  if  he  had  seen  a  hundred  pistols 
pointed  at  his  head.  He  was  ripe  for  adven- 
ture now,  and  he  longed  to  see  the  discom- 
fiture of  the  big  fish  wife  who  had  thumped 
him  so  soundly  in  the  morning. 

The  beautiful  church  was  illuminated  from 
nave  to  altar.  The  red-faced  man  was  no 
longer  in  the  carved  pulpit.  Probably  he  had 
talked  himself  hoarse,  or  been  overcome  with 
wine  and  carried  away,  the  daily  fate  of  many 
of  the  club  orators  ;  but  to  his  surprise,  and 
not  a  little  to  his  delight,  Frank  saw  leaning 
upon  the  pulpit  rail  the  voluminous  form  of 
his  enemy,  Manon.  He  set  up  a  shout,  and 
pointed  her  out  to  the  general,  who  had  drawn 


DOMBROWSKI   ADOPTS   FHANK.  309 

his  sword  and  advanced  to  the  nave  with 
menacing  air. 

There  was  a  shrill  yell  from  the  women,  who 
were  beginning  to  rush  for  the  doors.  But 
when  they  found  themselves  intercepted 
by  half  a  dozen  military  men  with  cocked 
rifles  and  bayonets,  they  became  almost 
hysterical. 

"This  is  a  trap,  a  trap!"  they  shrieked. 
"The  general  is  going  to  carry  us  all  off  te 
prison.  Down  with  him  !  It  is  treason  !  " 

"  Silence,  you  blasphemous  wretches  ! " 
cried  the  general,  brandishing  his  sword  and 
seeming  all  at  once  to  grow  taller.  "If  I 
don't  capture  you  and  have  you  thrown  into 
prison,  where  you  belong,  it  is  because  I  have 
better  business  on  hand.  You  defile  the 
house  of  the  Lord  with  your  infamous  orgies 
and  your  blasphemy,  and  you  disgrace  the 
Commune  with  your  nonsense  and  your 
crimes!  I  will  not  punish  you  all,  but  I  will 
teach  some  of  you  a  lesson.  Come  down  from 
yonder  pulpit!"  he  shouted  to  Manon,  who 
stood  as  if  thunderstruck,  gazing  at  the 
officers,  who  had  their  revolvers  in  their  hands, 


310         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

and  some  of  whom  were  approaching  the  foot 
of  the  pulpit.  ''Bring  her  down,  I  say!" 
thundered  Dombrowski.  "Take  half  a  dozen 
of  the  ring-leaders  and  send  them  to  the 
nearest  post,  and  let  them  stay  there  till  I  can 
appear  against  them  for  invading  my  apart- 
ments and  destroying  the  property  of  the 
Commune!  And  as  for  you  others,"  he  cried, 
turning  to  two  or  three  hundred  men  and 
women  who  were  circling  about  him  like 
frightened  pigeons,  "  go  to  your  homes  !  This 
club  will  be  closed  to-night !  I  take  the 
responsibility  of  the  action  !  Out  with  you  !  " 

As  they  filed  between  the  soldiers  on  their 
way  out,  Dombrowski  caused  Manon  and 
seven  of  the  noisiest  of  her  fellow  fish  wives 
to  be  arrested,  then  he  seized  upon  half  a 
dozen  of  the  worst-looking  men,  and  had  them 
conducted  under  an  escort  to  the  nearest  post, 
there  to  await  his  complaint.  The  church 
was  closed,  and  a  guard  set  at  the  door. 
"  Let  nothing  be  done  here  until  I  return," 
he  said. 

As  the  choleric  Manon  departed  in  the 
custody  of  two  stout  soldiers,  she  caught 


DOMBROWSKI   ADOPTS   FRANK.  311 

sight  of  Frank,  who  smiled  graciously  upon 
her  and  gave  her  a  military  salute.  She 
looked  wickedly  at  him,  but  said  nothing. 

Half  an  hour  later  Frank  and  the  general 
were  trotting  side  by  side,  a  little  ahead  of 
the  staff,  up  a  long,  deserted  street,  at  one 
end  of  which  arose  a  shadowy  mass  of  huge 
walls,  looking  gigantic  in  the  vague  light  of 
the  summer  night. 

"There  are  the  fortifications,"  said  Dom- 
browski.  "In  a  few  minutes  we  shall  be  in 
the  open  country." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

IN  WHICH  8NY  REAPPEARS    AND    DISAPPEARS. 

"TpRANK'S  heart  gave  a  bound  as  the  little 
J~  troop  came  under  the  shadow  of  the 
great  walls  of  Paris,  and  he  thought  sorrow- 
fully of  how  he  was  leaving  behind  him  in  the 
war-ridden  capital  all  that  was  dear  to  him  in 
the  world. 

For  a  moment  it  seemed  to  him  that  he 
must  jump  down  from  his  horse,  leave  this 
rough  but  kind  friend  who  was  trying  to  help 
him,  and  run  back  into  the  city,  and  begin 
anew  his  desperate  search  for  the  loved  and 
lost  ones. 

But  Frank  was  a  practical  boy,  fast  growing 
into  ripeness  of  judgment ;  and  a  moment's 
reflection  convinced  him  that  he  must  bear 
his  pain  in  silence  and  accept  the  chances  of 
war.  Perhaps,  after  all,  some  unseen  hand 
was  guiding  him  along  the  right  road. 

Dombrowski's    escort    had    halted    in    the 

312 


SNY    REAPPEARS  AND   DISAPPEARS.       313 

shadow  of  the  walls,  while  the  general  went 
forward  to  the  gate.  Frank  leaped  down 
from  his  horse  and  walked  backward  a  short 
distance,  leading  the  animal  by  the  bridle. 
When  he  was  perhaps  fifty  yards  from  the 
soldiers,  he  suddenly  came  upon  a  sight  which 
so  surprised  him  that  he  could  not  even  cry 
out.  He  stood  with  his  mouth  wide  open  and 
one  hand  outstretched,  as  if  he  were  hailing 
the  familiar  figure  which  was  crossing  the 
road  but  a  few  feet  from  him. 

It  was  Sny  or  his  ghost !  The  pale,  gaunt 
Sny,  as  he  had  first  met  him  at  the  hotel  door 
in  the  Rue  de  Castiglione  !  Sny,  in  the  same 
dingy  overcoat,  with  the  same  bulging 
pockets,  which  indicated  that  they  contained 
all  the  adventurer's  worldly  baggage. 

"Can  it  be  possible,"  thought  Frank,  "that 
this  is  what  they  call  an  optical  illusion  ;  that 
because  Sny  comes  into  my  mind  I  seem  to 
see  him  passing  in  front  of  me  ?  Why,  no ; 
that  is  the  boy  himself!  And  I'll  bet  any- 
thing that  in  those  big  pockets  the  birds  are 
all  stowed  away  ready  for  business.  Here, 
hold  on,  Sny ! "  he  cried,  finding  his  voice  at 


314         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

last.  "Don't  you  see  me?  Wait  half  a 
minute.  No  danger!  I  want  to  speak  to 
you." 

To  Frank's  astonishment  the  figure  did  not 
turn  its  head.  Without  hastening  its  pace,  it 
crossed  the  road,  stepped  down  the  bank  to 
where  a  low  hedge  protected  the  grounds  of  a 
country  house,  and  then  disappeared  in  the 
shadows.  There  was  something  at  once  so 
real  and  so  phantom-like  in  this  that  it  gave 
Frank  a  little  shock  of  terror. 

"Goodness,  that  may  be  a  ghost!"  he 
thought.  "If  it  was  Sny,  why  didn't  he  turn 
and  answer  me?  He  must  have  heard  me. 
And  if  it  wasn't  Sny  in  flesh  and  blood,  what 
on  earth  was  it?" 

Determined  to  make  one  more  effort,  he 
jumped  on  his  horse  and  spurred  the  animal 
forward  down  the  sloping  bank  to  the  hedge, 
and  shouted  once  more  : 

"Sny!  Sny!  Is  that  you,  alive  or  dead? 
Why  don't  you  answer?" 

No  sound  came  from  the  stillness.  The 
house  was  probably  deserted.  Not  even  a  dog 
barked.  Half  frantic  at  the  fruitlessness  of 


SNY   REAPPEARS   AND   DISAPPEARS.       315 

his  endeavor,  Frank  rode  slowly  back,  won- 
dering that  the  apparition  which  had  caused 
him  such  genuine  alarm  had  not  been  noticed 
by  the  soldiers.  But  they  did  not  think  it 
necessary  to  follow  with  spying  gaze  any- 
one who  was  a  protege  of  Dombrowski.  They 
were  still  huddled  together  just  as  the  boy 
had  left  them,  and  were  evidently  thinking  of 
anything  but  him.  He  sat  dejectedly  waiting 
for  Dombrowski  to  return  and  give  the  signal 
for  departure. 

At  last  they  rode  out  of  the  gate  of  the  city. 
On  they  clattered,  over  broad  bridges,  across 
the  deep  moat,  and  when  they  had  gone  a  few 
hundred  yards  into  the  naked  military  zone 
which  lies  between  the  fortifications  and  the 
suburbs,  Dombrowski  drew  rein  and  called 
Frank  to  his  side.  The  staff  and  the  other 
cavaliers  went  rambling  along  in  the  shadows. 

"  I  did  not  know  until  I  came  here,  gen- 
eral," said  Frank,  "that  modern  cities  had 
fortifications.  It  seems  strange  that  such  a 
city  as  Paris  should  be  surrounded  by  walls 
and  moats  like  those  old  towns  which  we  read 
of  in  the  stories  of  the  Middle  Ages." 


316        UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

"True,"  said  Dombrowski;  "open  cities 
are  the  rule  nowadays.  But  about  thirty 
years  ago  the  French  made  up  their  minds 
that  a  modern  system  of  walls  would  be  a 
good  thing  for  Paris,  and  they  were  not  mis- 
taken. You  see  that  they  were  able  to  hold 
out  against  the  Prussians  longer  with  their 
walls  than  they  could  have  managed  to  do 
without  them." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Frank,  his  practical 
sense  coming  uppermost ;  "but  what  was  the 
good  of  the  long  siege  we  have  heard  so  much 
about?  Wouldn't  it  have  been  better  if  the 
city  had  been  open,  and  taken  at  once  ?  Then 
the  war  would  have  been  settled  more 
quickly,  and  a  lot  of  horrible  suffering  would 
have  been  prevented." 

"Oh,  no,  no  !"  said  Dombrowski,  laughing. 
"That  isn't  the  way  our  French  friends 
reason.  If  the  Prussians  had  been  able  to 
walk  into  Paris  in  a  few  da}^s'  promenade  from 
the  Rhine,  they  might  have  made  up  their 
minds  to  stay  for  good ;  or,  if  they  did  not  do 
that,  they  might  be  coming  much  too  fre- 
quently. It  is  only  by  making  the  seizure  of 


8NY    REAPPEARS    AND   DISAPPEARS.        317 

a  great  city  very  expensive  to  an  enterprising 
enemy  that  wars  are  rendered  less  frequent. 
No,  I  think  our  French  friends  were  right  to 
girdle  Paris  with  these  great  masses  of  stone." 

"  What  a  mint  of  money  they  must  have 
cost!"  said  Frank.  "Eighty  millions  of 
francs,  we  were  told." 

"Not  only  that,"  said  the  general,  "but 
look  at  all  this  land,  this  great  circumference 
of  the  military  zone,  running  to  waste.  All 
this  naked  country  that  you  see  here  is  kept 
so  year  after  year  for  a  double  reason  :  that 
the  authorities  may  use  it  at  any  moment  for 
military  purposes,  and  that,  when  they  do 
want  to  use  it,  they  will  not  be  held  respon- 
sible for  damages  to  property  owners.  The 
loss  on  this  waste  land  is  prodigious.  Why, 
a  quarter  of  a  million  people  could  live  on  the 
military  zone!  Yet  now  there  are  probably 
not  ten  thousand  persons  scattered  over  this 
dreary  tract,  and  they  are  the  dregs  of 
society,  men  released  from  prison,  or  poor 
outlawed  devils  who  till  little  market  gardens, 
and  live  in  hovels  which  can  be  vacated  at  a 
moment's  notice  ;  and  they  are  only  tolerated. 


318         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

Keeping  up  a  military  front  is  very  expensive, 
Master  Frank." 

"  So  I  should  think,"  said  the  boy,  "and  I 
can't  believe  it  is  worth  a  nation's  while  to 
carry  such  a  heavy  expense  for  twenty  years 
at  a  time,  just  to  be  ready  when  a  quarrel 
comes." 

"Ah,  in  that  view,"  said  the  general,  turn- 
ing his  horse  and-  starting  to  follow  the  col- 
umn, "you  would  have  all  the  military  men 
of  the  country  against  you,  especially  just 
now." 

As  they  rode  on  through  the  night,  the  gen- 
eral proved  himself  a  charming  companion. 
They  came  presently  into  a  region  of  vine- 
yards and  gardens,  beautiful  in  spite  of  long 
neglect  during  the  Prussian  siege,  and  in 
many  of  them  the  early  flowers  were  in  bloom, 
and  the  perfume  of  the  lilacs  and  the  acacia 
blossoms  drifted  heavily  on  the  air.  The 
horses  seemed  to  enjoy  this  night  promenade, 
pricked  up  their  ears,  and  sniffed  joyously. 
Over  slope  after  slope  the  cavaliers  wound 
their  way  toward  the  river  bank,  where  they 
were  to  rest  until  daylight. 


8NY    REAPPEARS   AND  DISAPPEARS.       319 

•  Dombrowski  told  Frank  many  entertaining 
stories  of  his  adventures  in  Polish  insurrec- 
tions. He  sang  little  snatches  of  German  and 
English  songs.  He  quoted  from  Shakspere 
and  Feniinore  Cooper.  He  talked  learnedly 
of  the  socialist  doctrines  which  had  brought 
about  the  Commune,  and  he  was  so  fascinating 
that  Frank,  for  the  moment,  forgot  his  anguish 
of  heart,  and  gave  himself  up  to  adventure. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  the 
hour  was  striking  melodiously  from  a  church 
tower,  as  the  little  troop  descended  a  gentle 
hill  and  came  to  the  bank  of  the  Seine. 

A  stone  bridge,  with  a  quaint  group  of 
wooden  houses  at  the  end  nearest  them,  at- 
tracted Frank's  attention.  He  heard  the 
sound  of  singing,  and  could  see  dimly  masses 
of  men  moving  to  and  fro. 

"What  is  that?"  he  said  to  the  general. 

"That  is  an  advanced  post,"  answered 
Dombrowski.  "At  this  point  the  river  only 
separates  us  from  the  Versaillist  lines.  Our 
good  friends  on  the  other  side  are  very  fond  of 
shelling  us,  and  you  will  probably  hear  the 
squealing  of  their  tin  pots  and  kettles  before 


320         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

you  have  been  here  very  long.  But  I  think 
you  told  me  you  have  been  under  fire  before  ; 
so  I  shall  expect  you  to  conduct  yourself  like 
a  man.  We  will  halt  here  for  something  to 
eat,"  he  said,  "because  I  am  not  sure  that  at 
the  fort  where  we  are  going  we  could  get  any- 
thing before  noon." 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  at  the  post, 
jvhere  Frank  was  surprised  to  see  some  two 
or  three  thousand  men,  well  armed  and  uni- 
formed, sitting  or  lying  about,  as  if  they 
expected  soon  to  go  into  action.  Few  of 
them  had  taken  any  precaution  to  go  under 
cover,  and  indeed  there  was  no  place  to  hide 
from  any  shells  which  the  enemy  might  wish 
to  send  to  them. 

"  Have  you  no  bomb-proofs  here  ? "  said 
Frank  to  the  general. 

"  No,"  said  Dombrowski,  "  we  don't  require 
them.  These  men  are  to  move  forward  at 
daybreak,  and  a  few  shells  would  not  disturb 
them  as  much  as  so  many  flies.  If  one 
chances  to  get  hit  he  takes  it  as  his  luck. 
It  is  the  fortune  of  war.  You  know  the  old 
song.  But  come,  let  us  forage." 


8NY    REAPPEARS   AND   DISAPPEARS.        321 

The  officers  dismounted ;  the  horses  were 
taken  to  an  extemporized  stable  by  some  of 
the  soldiers,  and  the  little  group  of  staff 
officers  pushed  their  way  into  one  of  the 
houses,  where  Dombrowski  was  speedily  wel- 
comed with  a  kiss  on  each  cheek,  by  a  huge 
bearded  officer,  who  clasped  the  general  in 
his  arms,  and  seemed  as  affectionate  as  if 
Dombrowski  had  been  his  own  son. 

They  spoke  together  in  a  language  which 
Frank  did  not  understand,  but  which  Dom- 
browski told  him  was  Polish. 

"This  is  one  of  my  old  companions  in 
arms,"  he  said,  "and  he  speaks  English, 
too.  He  spent  five  years  in  exile  in  London." 

"Ah,  the  little  gentleman  is  English  ! "  said 
the  big  officer.  "  You  see,  we  are  so  glad  to  get 
the  general  back  out  of  the  clutches  of  those 
scoundrels  over  there  at  the  Hotel  De  Ville 
that  we  hardly  know  how  to  contain  ourselves. 
We  fully  expected  that  they  would  put  him 
in  prison,  if  they  did  not  roast  him  alive.  But 
here  he  is  again  !  "  He  uttered  several  joyful 
exclamations  in  Polish,  and  calling  an  orderly 
whispered  some  mysterious  words  which 
21 


322         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

ended  in  the  spreading  of  a  bounteous  repast 
on  the  table,  lighted  by  wax  candles  stuck  in 
the  necks  of  empty  wine  bottles. 

And  now  the  officers  caine  clanking  in  and 
threw  themselves  down  on  the  rough  benches, 
and  for  a  few  minutes  nothing  was  heard  but 
the  popping  of  corks  and  the  clatter  of  knives 
and  forks.  Long  rolls  of  crisp,  fresh  bread 
("our  own  baking,"  said  the  big  officer),  huge 
Lyons  sausages,  smoked  ham,  cold  chicken, 
and  bits  of  cheese  formed  the  menu,  to 
which  Frank  did  ample  justice  after  his 
night's  ride. 

"Yon  live  like  prince's  here,"  said  Dom- 
browski,  pouring  himself  a  glass  of  wine. 
"You  will  find  yourselves  reported  at  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  as  Sybarites,  unless  you  are 
more  careful." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  the  big  officer. 
"We  do  not  fear  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  here. 
We  could  take  it  and  hold  it  with  the  men  at 
our  post ;  and  if  they  don't  get  less  tyrannical 
pretty  soon,  we  will  go  there  and  take  their 
places  and  send  them  to  dig  trenches  at  the 
front." 


SNY    REAPPEARS   AND   DISAPPEARS.        323 

"  Come,  come,  colonel !  "  said  Dombrowski ; 
"  walls  have  ears,  you  know." 

"Well,"  said  the  big  officer,  rising  to  his 
feet,  with  a  glass  of  wine  in  his  hand,  "  here  is 
confusion  to  all  the  jealous  ones,  and  success 
to  Dombrowski,  and  may  he  soon  be  general- 
in-chief !  " 

All  rose,  Frank  with  them,  and  were  about 
to  put  their  glasses  to  their  lips  when  there 
was  a  tremendous  explosion.  The  room  was 
filled  with  smoke,  and  fragments  of  plaster 
and  stone  fell  all  around  the  group.  So  great 
was  the  shock  that  some  of  the  men  were 
thrown  from  their  feet,  and  Dombrowski' s 
glass  fell  from  his  hand,  scattering  the  wine 
over  his  uniform. 

Frank  found,  when  the  shock  was  over,  that 
he  was  holding  tightly  with  one  hand  to  the 
general's  sword,  and  that  his  clothes  were  cov- 
ered with  a  white  powder.  His  first  thought 
Avas  that  the  room  had  been  blown  up  ;  but 
presently  he  saw  a  jngged  hole  in  the  side  of 
the  wall,  and  through  it  he  caught  a  glimpse 
of  blue  sky. 

Dombrowski  was  the  first  to  speak  : 


324  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

"That  was  a  neat  stroke,"  he  said.  "By 
the  bones  of  St.  Stanislaus !  they  must  have 
had  spies  in  our  camp  to  have  known  that  we 
were  coming,  for  they  dropped  that  shell  just 
in  the  right  spot ;  eh,  colonel?" 

The  big  officer  was  seated  on  the  bench,  and 
gravely  examining  his  right  foot.  "Come," 
he  said,  "  the  beggars  have  given  me  a  big 
bruise  here.  I  can  scarcely  walk  ;  let  some- 
one pull  off  my  boot.  I  think  I  am  badly 
hurt." 

"  I  share  your  opinion,"  said  one  of  the 
young  officers,  kneeling  down  and  gently  ex- 
tracting from  the  officers  boot-leg  a  ragged 
piece  of  iron  which  had  struck  through  into 
the  calf  of  the  leg,  and  was  covered  with 
blood.  "Here,  we  must  have  this  boot  cut 
off,  and  you  must  be  put  to  bed.  Call  a 
surgeon." 

Frank  did  not  quite  understand.  He  re- 
leased his  grip  on  the  general's  sword, 
touched  him  on  the  arm  to  attract  his 
notice,  and  said  : 

"Is  it  true  that  a  single  shell  has  made  all 
this  disturbance?" 


SNY   REAPPEARS   AND   DISAPPEARS.       325 

"  Hum  !  "  said  Dombrowski,  turning  a  pale 
face  to  the  boy.  "I  should  say  it  had,  and 
if  it  had  landed  on  the  table  among  us,  we 
should  never  have  done  another  stroke  for  the 
Commune,  I  assure  you,  Frank.  Ah  !  there 
goes  another  one,"  he  added,  as  they  heard  a 
loud  report  near  by,  and  then  a  shout  from  a 
hundred  voices.  "Let  us  see  what  is  going 
on  outside." 

Frank  followed  Dombrowski  into  the  open 
air.  Then,  early  breakfast  being  indefinitely 
postponed,  the  officers,  after  seeing  the  big 
commander  of  the  post  stretched  on  a  mat- 
tress in  a  place  comparatively  sheltered  from 
the  shell  fire,  stuffed  their  pockets  with  the 
remains  of  the  feast,  drank  a  few  parting 
stirrup  cups,  and  prepared  to  continue  their 
journey. 

"Here,  Frank,"  said  the  general,  "  is  a  sou- 
venir for  you.  You  can  put  it  on  your  mantel- 
piece when  you  are  safe  back  in  America, 
and  point  to  it  as  a  relic  of  the  Commune. 
See,  it  is  still  hot,"  and  he  handed  the  boy  a 
fragment  of  the  shell  which  had  caused  so 
much  disturbance. 


326         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Frank  took  it,  but  dropped  it  promptly,  for 
there  was  plenty  of  heat  in  it  yet. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  pick  it  up  !  "  said  the  general. 
"  Wrap  a  paper  about  it,  and  pop  it  into  that 
little  pocket  which  you  will  find  in  your 
cape." 

Dombrowski  ordered  the  staff  to  move 
rapidly  forward  to  the  fort  which  was  their 
destination,  and  he  and  Frank  remained 
behind  for  a  short  time,  watching  the  curious 
spectacle  of  a  mvandiere  singing  revolution- 
ary songs  to  an  audience  of  several  hundred 
soldiers,  who  joined  her  in  the  chorus,  clap- 
ping their  hands  in  unison.  The  mvandiere 
was  a  pretty  girl  with  a  loud  voice,  which  had 
a  vibration  like  that  of  a  brazen  bell,  in  which 
there  was  something  so  martial  and  feverish 
that  it  put  a  desire  for  battle  in  each  heart. 
Frank,  although  he  did  not  understand  all 
the  words,  caught  the  spirit  of  the  songs,  and 
Dombrowski  could  hardly  prevail  on  him  to 
come  away.  He  felt  ready  to  throw  himself 
into  the  struggle,  without  knowing  why  or 
for  what  he  fought. 

"Come  along,"   said  the  general,    leading 


8NY    REAPPEARS   AND   DISAPPEARS.        327 

Frank  back  to  the  horse;  "that  girl  with 
the  bold  eyes  is  bewitching  you." 

From  time  to  time  a  shell  came  screaming 
through  the  air,  and  fell  with  a  hoarse  thud 
near  or  among  the  men. 

"How  is  it,"  said  Frank,  "that  you  have 
no  guns  answering  these  saucy  government 
troops?" 

"Because  the  Commune  wishes  to  save  its 
ammunition,"  said  Dombrowski  dryly. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

AFTER   FIVE  WEEKS. 

"TjlRANK  climbed  upon  the  half-ruined  wall 
J-  of  the  old  fort,  and  looked  cautiously 
about  him.  Suddenly  there  was  a  noise  as  if 
ten  thousand  humming-birds  were  passing  by. 
Then  Frank  felt  as  if  a  hot  iron  had  been  held 
close  to  his  face. 

This  was  a  common  experience  to  him  now. 
He  gave  a  shout,  half  of  fear,  half  of  derision ; 
shook  himself  to  make  sure  he  was  not 
wounded,  then  jumped  down  and  ran. 

At  that  moment  Dombrowski  came  around 
the  corner  of  the  wall,  and  Frank  popped 
straight  into  his  arms. 

"Ah,  ha!  I  have  caught  you,  Master  Im- 
pudence, have  I?"  said  the  general,  with  a 
laugh.  "Drawing  the  fire  of  the  enemy,  eh? 
Do  you  know  what  I  would  do  to  you  if  you 
were  not  just  the  dear  little  reckless  fellow 
you  are?" 

388 


AFTER  FIVE   WEEKS.  329 

As  the  general  spoke,  he  patted  Frank 
affectionately  on  the  shoulder.  "Come  and 
sit  down  here  in  the  sunshine,"  he  said. 
"The  wicked  enemy  cannot  see  us  where  I 
shall  seat  you,  and  so  he  will  not  bother  us 
with  his  ugly  shells." 

Frank  followed  the  general,  and  they  sat 
down  together.  Dombrowski  took  off  his  cap, 
looked  up  at  the  sky,  and  smiled  at  the  sun- 
shine which  deluged  his  pale  brow  ;  then  he 
turned  thoughtfully  to  the  boy. 

"  You  know,  Frank,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  a 
citizen  of  the  world.  I  own  no  one  country  as 
my  true  home.  Wherever  there  is  a  blow  to 
be  struck  for  liberty,  there  you  will  find  me, 
and  there  you  will  see  my  sword  drawn." 

"But,  general,"  said  the  boy,  "I  have  long 
wished  to  ask  you  if  you  know  that  the  things 
you  fight  for  are  right  ?  Do  you  believe  the 
Commune  is  right?" 

"By  the  beard  of  Sobieski !  but  this  youth 
is  a  daring  American  cub !  That  is  a  bold 
question  that  you  have  asked  me,  and  one 
which  it  might  be  hard  to  answer." 

Frank    turned    pale,   and  jumped   up  and 


330  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

1  caught  the  general  by  the  hand.  "  I  know  I 
ought  not  to  have  asked  the  question,"  lie 
said.  "I  would  rather  die  than  cause  you 
any  trouble,  you  who  have  saved  my  life  and 
who  have  hunted  so  much  for  my  brother  and 
grandfather." 

The  boy  grew  still  paler  as  cruel  memories 
crowded  in  upon  him. 

"Only  think,  general,"  he  said  ;  "five  weeks 
have  passed  since  you  saved  me  out  of  that 
scrape,  and  not  a  word  has  been  heard  from 
Grandpa  Drubal  yet.  Oh,  he  must  be  dead  !  " 

The  general  hung  his  head  sorrowfully  and 
made  no  answer. 

"Do  tell  me  what  you  think,  general!" 
cried  Frank,  stamping  on  the  ground  in  his 
impatience  and  grief. 

"Don't  let  us  talk  of  that  just  now, 
Frank,"  said  the  general.  "You  know  that  I 
have  done,  and  am  still  doing,  all  that  is  pos- 
sible to  find  your  dear  ones.  The  consul 
and  the  minister  have  been  very  diligent  in 
their  search.  Your  banker  in  America  only 
answered  our  despatch  to  say  that  Grandpa 
Drubal' s  signature  was  the  only  one  he 


AFTER  FIVE   WEEKS.  331 

could  honor.  Not  much  help  there  !  Listen, 
Frank  !  Great  events  are  at  hand,  and  the 
time  has  come  for  us  to  separate.  I  should 
be  doing  you  a  wrong  by  keeping  you  here 
any  longer." 

As  he  spoke  a  shell  fell  with  a  hiss  in  a 
trench  not  far  from  where  they  sat. 

The  general  moved  uneasily,  then  glanced 
at  Frank,  as  if  to  make  sure  that  the  boy  had 
not  observed  his  nervousness. 

"Do  you  know,"  he  said,  "  that  sometimes 
I  fear  I  no  longer  bear  a  charmed  life  ?  Any 
little  musketry  fire  galls  me  now.  The  groan 
of  a  shell,  as  it  sinks  into  the  soil,  gives  me 
a  great  start.  Once  it  was  not  so.  In  the 
Caucasus  I  laughed  at  the  bullets  of  the 
tribesmen.  In  the  insurrection  at  Warsaw  a 
man  fired  a  pistol  in  my  face,  and  the  bullet 
did  me  no  harm.  On  the  way  to  Siberia  a 
gendarme  tried  to  stab  me  in  the  back  with 
his  bayonet,  but  his  weapon  made  no  wound. 
I  thought,  as  an  old  fortune-teller  once  told 
me,  that  my  life  was  enchanted  ;  but  now," 
(he  drew  the  boy  closer  to  his  side,  and  leaned 
his  head  for  a  little  upon  Frank's  shoulder)— 


332  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

"now,"  he  continued  with  a  sigh,  "it  is  dif- 
ferent. Frank,  I  shall  not  come  out  of  this. 
The  bullet  is  cast  which  will  kill  me." 

"And  that,"  said  Frank,  "is  the  reason 
why  you  wish  me  to  leave  you  ?  General,  do 
you  think  I  would  run  away  from  you  when 
you  are  in  trouble,  after  all  that  you  have 
done  for  me?" 

Frank's  eyes  flashed  and  his  lips  quivered. 

"No,  my  poor  Frank;  I  know  that  you 
have  a  kind  heart,  but  what  will  become  of 
you  when  I  am  no  longer  here  to  protect  you  ? 
We  must  think  of  that." 

They  sat  motionless  together  for  some  time. 
The  beautiful  May  sunshine  was  sweeping  in 
great  waves  over  the  plateau  of  Chatillon,  and 
down  the  gently  sloping  hills,  now  all  deli- 
cately clothed  in  living  green,  and  up  the 
steep  banks  of  Bellevue  and  Meudon,  where 
the  Versaillists  were  intrenched. 

It  ran  in  rippling  glory  along  the  gray  and 
brownish  yellow  walls  of  old  Fort  Montrouge, 
which  the  Communists  had  so  fiercely  de- 
fended, but  which  was  now  in  the  hands  of 
their  enemies. 


AFTEP   FIVE  WEEKS.  333 

It  fell  as  gen'ly  as  a  benediction  on  the 
trenches  which  the  Prussians  had  left  behind 
them,  and  fvom  which  Paris  was  now  defying 
Versailles,  axii  it  seemed  to  enfold  the  general 
of  the  insurrection  and  the  American  boy  in  a 
tender  glory. 

"  S'io,  Frank  ! "  said  the  general,  starting  up, 
"  the  whole  sky  is  streaked  with  gold.  But 
it  seems  to  me  there  is  blood  in  it,  lad.  Blood!" 
he  said,  staring  at  vacancy  for  a  moment,  like 
one  startled  by  a  vision.  Then  he  rubbed  his 
eyes,  seated  himself,  and  drawing  a  printed 
form  from  his  vest  pocket,  wrote  a  few  words. 

"Look,  Frank!"  he  said,  "this  is  a  'safe- 
conduct,'  good  anywhere  within  our  lines. 
I  want  you  to  take  it  and  go  as  fast  as  you 
can  to  the  Prussian  outposts  at  St.  Denis. 
When  you  get  there  go  boldly  to  them  ;  send 
for  an  officer  and  ask  protection  as  an  Amer- 
ican, until — until  the  troubles  here  are  over. 
Will  you  not  do  that  for  my  sake?  Here  is 
money  enough  to  last  you  for  a  month."  He 
smiled  sadly.  "I  think  one  or  the  other  of 
us,  Communist  or  Versaillist,  will  have  given 
in  before  that." 


334 


UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 


He  pushed  the  paper  and  money  into 
Frank's  hand,  but  Frank  held  his  head  down, 
and  would  not  speak  for  some  minutes. 

"Come,  Frank,"  at  last  said  the  general, 
impatiently,  "  you  know  I  must  be  going  my 
rounds." 

Frank  seized  the  general's  hand,  and 
gripped  it  convulsively. 

"Why,  Frank,"  said  Dombrowski,  "you 
have  a  man's  grasp  already  !  These  weeks  of 
misfortune  have  made  a  man  of  you.  I  should 
hardly  recognize  you  as  the  slip  of  a  boy 
whom  I  took  out  of  the  hands  of  the  mob  at 
the  church.  That  was  a  close  shave,  as  you 
English-speaking  folks  say,  wasn't  it?  Ah, 
ha !  A  great  phrase,  that  *  close  shave,1 
eh?" 

"  I  would  like  to  think  a  few  minutes,  gen- 
eral, before  I  accept  the  safe-conduct.  May 
I  do  so?  When  you  come  back  from  your 
rounds,  I  will  give  you  my  answer." 

"As  you  please,  Frank;  but  remember, 
Dombrowski' s  luck  is  gone.  Something  telh 
me  so.  A  charmed  life  no  longer  !  Look 
all  those  blood-stains  in  the  sky.  If  I  cannc 


AFTER  FIVE   WEEKS.  335 

protect  my  own  life  when  the  final  struggle 
comes,  how  can  I  protect  you?'* 

A  sigh  choked  him.  He  turned  away,  and 
Frank  was  left  alone  in  a  corner  of  the  re- 
doubt, to  meditate  on  his  strange  adventures. 

The  sense  of  loneliness  now  returned  with 
new  force  upon  the  boy.  But  Dombrowski 
had  said  truly  ;  the  few  weeks  of  adventure 
had  transformed  the  lad  into  a  resolute  and 
purposeful  youth,  who  had  almost  the 
strength  of  a  man,  and  abundant  courage. 

Frank  felt  that  it  would  be  but  a  poor  use 
of  these  qualities,  of  the  possession  of  which 
he  felt  sure,  to  run  away  to  the  German  lines 
when  his  grandfather  and  his  brother  were 
perhaps  in  sorest  trouble — possibly  at  that 
moment  hunting  for  him.  And  now  came  up 
the  image  of  the  father  for  whom  they  were 
all  searching,  and  he  remembered  that  he  had 
spoken  vaguely  of  this  to  his  kind  protector. 

"  Surely,"  he  thought,  "  when  Dombrowski 
knows  something  about  my  father's  history, 
he  will  see  that  I  have  the  strongest  motive 
for  going  back  into  Paris,  and  that  I  ought 
to  blame  myself  for  ever  having  gone  away." 


336         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Yet  when  the  boy  looked  carefully  over  the 
weeks  which  he  had  spent  with  Dombrowski, 
he  could  not  find  a  single  day  in  which  he 
could  have  got  back  to  the  walls  of  the 
great  city.  Each  morning  had  its  alarm,  its 
skirmishes,  its  shell  fire,  its  hundred  little 
mischances  and  annoyances  so  common  in 
war,  and  the  day  was  gone  before  a  resolve 
could  be  taken.  Sometimes  they  had  been 
without  food  for  half  a  day  or  a  day.  The 
work  of  foraging  had  been  so  great  that  they 
had  had  but  little  time  to  think  of  anything 
else,  and  yet  the  poor  boy  continually  re- 
proached himself  as  if  he  were  a  deserter,  when 
really  he  had  been  the  victim  of  circumstances. 

But  now  that  he  was  at  the  parting  of  the 
ways  one  thing  took  up  his  whole  attention. 
"What  if  I  could  find  father,"  he  thought, 
"and  we  together  could  go  on  hunting  for 
Grandpa  Drubal  and  little  Will  ?  I  am  sure 
that  we  could  discover  them,  even  if  we  had 
to  turn  over  every  stone  in  Paris." 

His  mind  was  so  intent  on  this  thought  that 
he  scarcely  heard  the  general's  light  footsteps 
when  Dombrowski  came  back  from  his  rounds, 


AFTER  FIVE  WEEKS.  337 

and,  touching  him  on  the  shoulder,  said  cheer- 
fully : 

"  Well,  Frank,  you  have  been  alone  here  an 
hour,  and  have  had  time  enough  to  decide. 
What  do  you  say?" 

Frank  turned  to  the  general,  and  said 
impulsively  : 

"Something  tells  me  that  I  can  now  find  my 
brother  and  Grandpa  Drubal,  if  I  go  back  into 
Paris.  May  I  not  use  the  safe-conduct  and 
the  money  for  that  ?  It  will  be  better  than  to 
run  away  to  the  Prussians." 

The  general  looked  steadily  at  him,  and 
there  was  a  mist  in  his  eyes. 

"You  are  a  brave  boy,  Frank,"  he  said. 
"That  is  the  reason  why  I  love  you,  and  I  love 
you  so  well  that  it  is  my  duty  to  tell  you 
something.  If  you  go  into  Paris  you  will 
be  in  deadly  danger  there  in  a  few  days,— in 
a  few  days, — but  perhaps  I  shall  be  there, 
and,"  he  added  hesitatingly,  "I  might  be 
able  to  look  after  yon.  Your  young  innocent 
heart  can  hardly  conceive  of  the  horrors 
likely  to  be  enacted  there.  I  don't  like  to 
think  of  them  myself." 


338         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

He  drew  closer  to  Frank,  and  said  in  a 
hoarse  whisper: 

"  Do  you  remember  the  little  hunchback  at 
the  Hotel  de  Villel" 

Frank  made  a  gesture  expressive  of  disgust. 

"You  are  quite  right,"  said  Dombrowski, 
•with  a  grim  smile.  "He  was  an  odious  look- 
ing wretch,  but  did  I  tell  you  what  he  said  about 
the  fate  of  the  beautiful  building  if  the  regu- 
lar troops  forced  an  entrance  into  the  city?" 

"Yes,"  said  Frank;  "that  he  had  gun- 
powder enough  there  to  blow  the  Hotel  de 
Ville  all  the  way  to  America,  and  petroleum 
enough  in  the  cellar  to  float  the  Great  Eastern. 
But  perhaps  he  and  his  fellows  won't  get  a 
chance  to  use  all  these  things." 

Dombrowski  placed  his  hand  on  the  boy's 
shoulder,  and,  still  whispering  as  if  he  were 
afraid  that  even  at  that  distance  the  hunch- 
back might  overhear  him,  continued  : 

"Not  only  is  the  Hotel  de  Ville  prepared 
in  that  way  for  destruction,  but  the  whole  line 
of  palaces  and  stately  buildings,  all  the  way 
from  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  up  to  the 
Hotel  de  Ville,  have  their  cellars  filled  with 


AFTER   FIVE    WEEKS.  339 

petroleum,  and  the  wretches  mean  to  burn 
everything  if  our  people  should  be  compelled 
to  retreat." 

"Well,"  said  Frank  a  little  impatiently, 
"let  them  try  it !  "  He  forgot  for  a  moment 
that  he  was  talking  to  a  general  of  the  Com- 
mune. "They  will  be  stopped,  I  suppose, 
when  the  regulars  get  the  best  of —  Then 
he  remembered  to  whom  he  was  speaking,  and 
he  stopped  confusedly. 

Dombrowski  hardly  noticed  what  the  boy 
was  saying.  "My  dear  Frank,"  he  said, 
"  you  ought  to  know  that  there  are  two 
parties  in  this  insurrection  ;  that  the  soldiers 
have  nothing  in  common  with  the  miserable 
wretches  who  are  simply  seeking  for  ven- 
geance on  society,  and  are  wreaking  their 
malice  and  satisfying  their  envy  whenever  a 
chance  offers.  You  saw  the  hideous  grin  of 
that  hunchback  when  he  happened  to  speak 
of  'Society.'  Socialists  like  him  would  give 
short  shrift  to  all  property  owners  who 
happened  to  fall  into  their  hands." 

"Why,"  said  Frank,  "do  you  mean  that 
they  would  murder  them  ? " 


340         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

"Certainly,"  said  the  general,  "with  the 
greatest  pleasure ;  and  I  have  now  hinted 
enough  to  you  to  indicate  how  dangerous 
it  will  be  for  an  imprudent  little  fellow  like 
yourself  to  be  wandering  in  and  out  of  this 
great  fight  if  it  happens  to  be  transferred  to 
the  interior  of  Paris.  It  grieves  me,  my  boy, 
to  let  you  go.  You  will  be  much  safer  with 
me,  although  our  safety  is  but  comparative." 

Frank  reflected  a  few  moments  ;  then  said 
quietly,  and  without  any  show  of  bravado  : 

"Well,  general,  I  have  picked  up  some 
French  since  I  have  been  with  you,  and 
learned  something  of  the  geography  of  Paris 
and  its  suburbs,  and  I  guess  I  can  find  my 
own  way  along,  and  don't  believe  that  I  shall 
fall  into  any  of  those  dangers  you  dread  for 
me."  Then  he  straightened  up,  and  said  in  a 
louder  voice :  "  And  even  if  there  were  all 
these  dangers  waiting  for  me,  and  ten  thou- 
sand more,  they  would  not  change  my  mind  a 
bit.  I  know  I  ought  to  be  over  there,"  point- 
ing toward  Paris,  "  and  the  sooner  I  get  there, 
the  better  ;  so,  general,  if  you  feel  like  con- 
tinuing your  kindness  by  helping  me  back  to 


AFTER  FIVE   WEEKS.  341 

the  city,  I  will  go  to  work.  I  don't  think  I 
have  told  you  the  whole  story  about  my  poor 
father  yet." 

"No,  Frank,"  said  the  general;  "I  have 
never  pressed  you  to  tell  it,  because  I  saw  it 
was  a  painful  subject." 

They  sat  down  together,  and  Frank  told 
Dombrowski  in  a  plain  and  matter  of  fact  way 
why  Grandpa  Drubal  had  brought  them  to 
Paris,  and  how  unsuccessful  they  had  been  in 
their  search  for  the  long  lost  Almon  Corners. 
He  could  not  bring  himself  to  say  anything 
about  Sny,  whose  mysterious  appearance  and 
disappearance  formed  such  a  romantic  episode 
in  their  visit  to  Paris.  Something  hindered 
him  each  time  that  he  tried  to  tell  his  new 
found  friend  about  the  gaunt,  adventurous 
youth.  Perhaps  it  would  be  putting  Sny  in 
danger.  Yet  he  longed  more  than  ever  to 
know  what  had  become  of  Sny  and  his 
pigeons.  Possibly  Sny  had  been  killed,  or 
was  languishing  in  some  Communist  prison,  or 
had,  in  his  happy-go-lucky  way,  wandered  out 
of  the  scene  of  the  war  and  was  already  enjoy- 
ing new  adventures  in  some  fresh  country. 


342         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

When  he  had  finished  his  story,  Dom- 
browski,  who  had  evidently  been  much  moved 
by  it,  jumped  up  and  said  : 

"  Well,  Frank,  you  are  right.  Who  knows 
but  you  may  stumble  upon  your  lost  father? 
Certainly  you  two  together  could  do  much 
to  discover  the  others ;  but,  you  know,"  he 
added  hesitatingly,  "that  only  a  week  ago  we 
were  told  that  the  search  for  your  grandfather 
and  little  brother  had  been  in  vain.  You 
remember  that,  I  suppose?" 

Frank  said  nothing.  His  heart  ached  and 
his  brain  throbbed  at  the  remembrance  of 
this  crushing  message,  yet  he  could  not  give 
up  hope. 

General  Dombrowski  took  out  his  tablets 
and  wrote  steadily  for  a  minute  or  two.  Then 
he  folded  the  papers  on  which  he  had  written, 
and  handed  them  to  Frank.  "Well,"  he 
said,  "  I  suppose  I  must  let  you  go.  Destiny 
apparently  wills  it  so.  I  have  given  you  here 
some  addresses  at  which  you  can  ask  for  me 
in  case  you  hear  that  we  have" — he  bit  his 
lips— "been  forced  back  into  the  city,  or 
come  back  of  our  own  accord.  Do  not  ask  for 


AFTER   FIVE   WEEKS. 


343 


me  at  headquarters  in  that  case.  This  after- 
noon, if  all  is  well,  you  can  start.  Now  come 
and  get  some  bread  and  soup  before  the 
Meudon  batteries  begin  to  lire  pots  and  kettles 
into  our  kitchen,  as  they  did  yesterday." 

Arm  in  arm,  the  American  boy  and  the 
general  of  the  Commune  went  down  the  little 
hill  to  the  redoubt-canteen,  and  Dombrowski 
hummed,  as  they  went  along,  a  line  or  two 
from  his  favorite  song : 

"  Ich  weiss  nicht  was  soil  es  bedeuten 
Dase  ich  so  traurig " 

"  All !  I  smell  the  soup,"  he  cried.  "  Come 
along  I" 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

IN  LA   GHANDE  KOQUETTE. 

AT  the  moment  when  Frank  and  the  Com- 
JL_L  nmnist  general  sat  down  to  a  meal  of 
soup  and  dark-colored  bread,  while  the  shells 
whistled  above  the  trenches,  an  old  man, 
whose  hair  was  silver-white,  was  seated  at  one 
end  of  a  long  gloomy  room,  in  the  prison  of 
T^a  Grande  Roquette,  in  Paris. 

His  face  was  hidden  in  his  hands ;  his 
elbows  were  leaned  wearily  upon  the  table. 
But  he  had  that  alert  attitude  which  an- 
nounces that  one  is  listening  intently. 

In  the  wall  not  far  from  the  long  table  at 
which  the  old  man  sat  was  a  grated  window 
without  any  glass.  It  appeared  to  open  on  a 
corridor,  for  the  sound  of  steps  could  be 
heard,  now  feeble,  now  loud,  as  if  people  were 
passing  the  window  and  then  moving  away. 

Presently  the  old  man  arose  and  went  to 

344 


IN   LA    GRANDE   ROQUETTE.  345 

the  window.  As  he  was  very  tall,  he  could 
manage,  by  standing  on  tiptoe,  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  corridor,  and  sometimes  of  the 
heads  of  persons  passing. 

He  stretched  his  lean,  athletic  figure  so  as  to. 
make  every  inch  of  his  height  tell.  But  all 
that  he  could  see  this  time  was  the  polished 
top  of  a  rifle-barrel.  And  he  heard  the  clink- 
clank  of  a  sabre. 

He  thought  that  he  heard  a  child's  voice. 
But  he  had  thought  that  many  times  before. 
Probably  he  was  the  victim  of  a  fancy  of  the 
brain.  Perhaps  he  was  going  mad !  Why 
should  he  not  die?  What  else  was  there  for 
him  to  do? 

He  left  the  window  and  resumed  his  seat  at 
the  table.  Noticing  the  water  decanter  near 
him,  he  poured  the  few  drops  which  it  con- 
tained into  a  cracked  glass,  and  was  about  to 
moisten  his  lips  when  a  tiny  hand  was  laid 
upon  his  arm. 

It  was  the  hand  of  a  baby  girl  of  four,  the 
daughter  of  a  poor  peasant  woman  seated  a 
little  farther  down — her  white  cap  awry  on 
her  glossy  tresses,  her  head  prone  on  her 


346 


UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 


hands,  her  lips  and  eyes  swollen  with  con- 
tinuous weeping  and  sobbing. 

"  De  Veau!  Donnes-moi  d  boirc,  s'll  te 
plait!"  said  the  mite's  thin  voice. 

The  man  understood  the  small  hand,  and 
the  appeal  in  the  baby  eyes,  if  not  the  words. 
So  he  took  the  child  in  his  arms,  and  gave  it 
the  last  drops  of  water  which  they  could 
hope  for  that  night.  "Drink,  tiny  fellow- 
prisoner,"  he  said  kindly,  "and  may  it  do 
you  good." 

The  old  man  with  the  silver-white  hair  was 
Grandpa  Drubal,  and  he  had  been  a  prisoner 
in  the  prison  of  La  Grande  Roquette  nearly 
six  weeks.  Sometimes  it  seemed  to  him  as  if 
he  had  been  there  six  years. 

How  and  why  he  had  been  placed  there  he 
did  not  know.  On  that  dreadful  April  day, 
when  he  had  come  home  to  his  hotel  to  dis- 
cover that  Marcelle  and  Will  were  gone,  and 
to  faint  in  the  ring  of  soldiers  dancing  about 
him,  he  had  come  to  his  senses  in  the  guard- 
room of  a  barracks. 

There  he  was  confronted  by  three  gloomy 
"citizens"  wearing  crimson  sashes,  who 


IN   LA   GRANDE   ROQUETTE.  347 

informed  him  in  French,  of  which  he  did  not 
understand  a  word,  that  he  was  "in  custody 
for  conspiring  against  the  Commune." 

He  shook  his  head  and  begged  them  to  tell 
him  what  had  become  of  Will  and  Marcelle ; 
to  let  him  return  to  the  hotel  and  look  after 
Frank  ;  to  allow  him  to  write  to  the  American 
consul. 

His  captors  declined  to  listen  to  him.  He 
was  taken  to  a  rickety  old  cab,  placed  between 
two  men  with  loaded  revolvers  held  with  the 
muzzles  toward  him,  and  in  this  way  trans- 
ported several  miles. 

Then  he  was  ordered  to  get  out,  and  he  cast 
a  quick  glance  around.  He  was  in  a  mean- 
looking  square,  bordered  by  small  houses  with 
quaint  roofs,  except  on  one  side,  where  a  huge 
grimy  edifice  with  colossal  doors  reared  itself, 
and  seemed  slowly  melting  into  the  dusk 
which  was  just  closing  down. 

There  were  Communist  troops  in  the  square, 
at  the  doors  of  the  prison,  and  in  the  cor- 
ridors. Most  of  them  were  surly,  and  many 
were  drunk.  As  there  was  no  room  for 
Grandpa  Drubal  when  he  first  arrived,  he  was 


348         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

placed  in  a  long,  low  room  with  a  curious- 
looking  block  at  one  end  of  it. 

He  would  not  have  felt  comfortable  if,  when 
he  sank  down  upon  this  block,  he  had  realized 
that  it  was  the  identical  one  upon  which  men 
condemned  to  death  sit,  when  the  aids  of  the 
executioner  cut  their  hair  and  collars  away  a 
few  minutes  before  they  mount  upon  the  fatal 
scaffold ! 

By  and  by  Grandpa  Drubal  was  given  a 
cell,  and  found  the  word  "Suspect"  marked 
in  chalk  upon  his  door. 

This  led  him  to  believe  that  his  own  case 
was  not  serious.  "They  think  I'm  a  sus- 
picious person;  do  they?"  he  said  to  himself. 
"Well,  they'll  find  out  that  I'm  not,  I  reckon, 
and  then  they'll  let  me  go." 

Although  he  was  a  brave  man,  he  would 
have  shuddered  had  he  known  the  mortal 
danger  which  lay  hidden  behind  that  word 
"suspect." 

But  he  gave  no  heed  to  his  own  peril,  and 
bent  his  whole  attention  on  the  fate  of  the 
two  boys.  He  convinced  himself  that  Mnr- 
celle  had  kidnapped  Will  for  reasons  best 


IN    LA   GRANDE   ROQUETTE.    *  349 

known  to  herself;  and  until  his  money  was 
taken  from  him  by  the  guards — who  spent  it 
in  a  night  of  riotous  drinking — he  was  con- 
stantly preparing  messages  for  the  American 
minister,  asking  for  help. 

No  answer  came  to  his  letters,  because  they 
were  never  delivered.  They  were  destroyed 
as  soon  as  taken  to  the  office  of  the  prison. 
Grandpa  Drubal  did  not  know  that  he  was 
held  as  a  "hostage,"  and  that  his  captors 
were  desirous  that  no  official  of  his  govern- 
ment should  know,  until  what  they  considered 
the  proper  time,  Avhere  he  was. 

By  and  by  his  ink  and  paper  were  taken 
from  him,  and,  his  money  being  confiscated, 
nothing  was  left  him  but  his  baggage,  which 
was  one  day  brought  to  him  without  a  word. 
But  all  his  books,  and  the  pictures  of  the  boys, 
had  disappeared. 

The  Commune  had  set  free  many  of  the 
worst  villains  who  had  been  awaiting  trans- 
portation or  the  guillotine,  and  had  crowded 
the  gloomy  cells  of  La  Grande  Roquette  with 
poor,  pious  priests, — gentle  old  men,  with 
spiritual  faces, — with  ladies  and  gentlemen 


350         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

thought  to  be  influential  with  the  Versaillists, 
and  with  soldiers  of  the  line  who  had  refused 
to  go  over  to  the  Commune. 

The  soldiers  were  merry,  feared  neither 
death  nor  the  Communists,  and  laughed  at 
their  guards  and  sang  comic  songs. 

One  day  Grandpa  Drubal  was  taken  from 
his  cell  because  it  was  wanted  for  two  smaller 
men,  and  was  placed  in  a  "common  room" 
which  had  been  the  refectory  of  the  prison. 
He  was  allowed  to  have  a  mattress  and  his 
trunk  in  a  corner. 

Into  this  room  a  hundred  men  and  women 
were  crowded,  and  obliged  to  stay  there  all 
day  and  night,  except  for  a  brief  hour  of  sep- 
aration daily.  There  were  priests,  merchants, 
journalists,  land-owners,  artists,  soldiers,  even 
workmen  in  their  blue  blouses.  These  unfor- 
tunate prisoners  lived  in  daily  dread  of  the 
"platoon  of  execution,"  which,  they  were 
told,  would  come  for  them  if  the  Versaillists 
entered  the  city. 

The  priests  prayed  and  exhorted.  The  la- 
dies helped  each  other,  and  made  the  dreadful 
room  beautiful  with  their  self-sacrifice,  char- 


IN   LA  GRANDE  ROQUETTE.  351 

ity,  and  love.  The  workmen  dozed,  or  grum- 
bled at  the  wretched  food  doled  out. 

Sometimes  the  prisoners  could  hear  the  can- 
nonade away  among  the  hills  growing  louder, 
and  then  they  would  grow  excited  and  would 
shout.  Then  the  guards  would  come  in  and 
shout  "  Canaille!"  and  threaten  to  massacre 
then  at  once. 

Grandpa  Drubal's  days  passed  in  a  waking 
dream,  interrupted  only  by  the  thought  that 
he  sometimes  heard  little  Will  calling  "  Mar- 
celle  !  "  in  his  pure,  childish  voice.  When  he 
thought  this,  the  tears  would  gather  in  his 
eyes. 

Just  after  he  had  given  the  baby  girl  the 
water  for  which  his  own  lips  thirsted  an  old 
priest,  who  spoke  a  very  little  English,  said 
to  him:  "You — make  peace — wiz — God?  I 
think  we  get  kill  one  day." 

Grandpa  Drubal  pressed  the  good  priest's 
hand.  It  set  him  to  thinking.  Well,  if  death 
was  to  come  that  way,  let  it  come.  But  Frank 
and  Will  ?  And  his  poor  lost  son  ? 

At  that  moment  he  heard  again,  and  so 
near  that  it  seemed  very  real,  the  soft  notes  of 


352  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

Will's  tiny  voice,  calling,  "Marcelle!  Mar- 
celle!"  And  then  he  thought  there  were 
other  words  which  he  could  not  hear. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  stretched  out  his 
arms.  The  worthy  priest  believed  him  suffer- 
ing, and  hurried  to  support  him. 

The  bolts  rattled  at  the  great  door,  and  pres- 
ently a  squad  of  guards  came  in,  bringing 
with  them  a  long  procession  of  prisoners 
taken  from  other  parts  of  the  prison,  to  be 
crowded  into  this  already  suffocating  hall. 

Each  prisoner  carried  or  dragged  a  lean  mat- 
tress and  a  coarse  bag  containing  food  and  a 
few  toilet  articles.  The  lugubrious  procession 
came  tremulously  forward  under  the  shifting 
lights,  and  halted  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
as  if  dismayed  at  the  dismal  prospect. 

Suddenly  a  little  figure  leaped  from  the 
arms  of  a  tall  thin  woman,  who  was  leaning 
languidly  against  a  bench,  and  came  flying 
and  shouting,  flourishing  its  hands,  and  at  last 
clasping  them  around  the  old  man's  knees, 
and  sobbing  forth : 

"  Grandpa  Drubal !  Grandpa  Drubal !  " 

The  old  man  bent  and  tenderly  loosened  the 


IN  LA   GRANDE   ROQUETTE.  353 

child's  grasp.  Then  he  tried  to  take  him  up 
in  his  arms.  But  his  privations  had  weakened 
him  ;  he  could  not  do  it.  So  he  sat  down  on 
a  bench,  and  the  child  leaped  upon  his  knee 
and  began  to  laugh  and  to  cry  all  at  once  and 
to  caress  the  old  man,  until  all  the  prisoners 
near  by  melted  into  tears  and  turned  away 
their  poor  worn  faces. 

"Ah,  thank  God!  thank  God!"  said 
Grandpa  Drubal ;  "it  was  no  dream;  I  was 
not  crazy!  It  was  the  child's  voice  that  I 
heard !" 

And  he  clasped  the  child  to  his  bosom  and 
his  great  frame  shook  with  his  hoarse  sobbing, 
while  the  good  priest  stood  by,  rather  help- 
lessly, patting  him  now  and  then  on  the 
shoulder. 

"Oh,  grandpa!"  said  Will,  "where's  poor 
Frank  ?  Isn't  he  with  you  ? "  And  the  ques- 
tion seemed  like  a  knife  in  the  old  man's  heart. 

"You  shall  know  all  about  Frankie  soon, 
dear,"  was  all  he  could  find  courage  to  say  for 
the  moment. 

By  and  by  he  set  the  child  gently  down  and 
beckoned  Marcelle  to  him.  As  she  came  near, 

23 


354         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

he  saw  that  she  was  faint  and  ravaged  with 
hunger  and  sleeplessness.  Then  he  looked  at 
Will,  and  observed  that  the  boy  was  well,  and 
seemed  to  have  been  tenderly  cared  for. 

He  stretched  out  his  arms  to  the  fierce  citi- 
zeness,  and  she  sank  down  beside  him.  "  Ob, 
citizen,"  she  said,  "  we  have  found  you  at 
last!  But  what  is  to  become  of  us?" 

"Marcelle,"  he  said,  "  I  wronged  you.  I 
thought  that  you  had  run  away  with  the  child. 
I  was  hasty — mad.  I  now  see  that  you  are  a 
victim  like  myself.  Forgive  me  !  " 

The  citizeness  took  his  hands  and  kissed 
them.  And  once  more  she  murmured :  "What 
will  become  of  us  ?  Perhaps  we  are  all  to  die 
to-night !  The  guards  are  terrible ;  their 
looks  freeze  my  blood." 

"  God  is  with  us  !  "  said  the  old  man  simply. 

"  Oui,  oui  !  "  chimed  in  the  priest,  nodding 
his  head  gravely.  He  had  caught  the  last 
words.  "  Oui— God  wiz  us,  even  to  ze  end  1 " 

The  once  fierce  Citizeness  Marcelle  humbly 
bowed  her  head,  and  on  it  the  good  priest 
placed  his  hand,  and  laid  the  sacred  seal  of 
his  beautiful  benediction. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

FRANK   SAVES   LAURETTE. 

WHILE  Frank  and  the  general  were  fin- 
ishing their  frugal  meal  with  a  piece 
of  Brie  cheese,  which  was  almost  as  hard  as 
a  fragment  of  shell,  and  with  some  sour 
wine  drunk  from  a  cracked  mug,  an  officer  of 
the  staff  brought  a  bad  piece  of  news  to 
Dombrowski. 

He  heard  it  with  a  smile  on  his  face,  and 
dismissed  the  officer  with  a  reproof  for  being 
alarmed.  But  Frank  could  hear  the  general's 
heart  beating  loudly  and  fiercely,  toc-toc-toc, 
and  he  saw  that  the  resolute  face  was  very 
pale. 

"It  means,  my  boy,"  said  he,  "that  we 
must  fall  back  upon  my  plan  of  a  gradual 
retreat  to  an  inner  line  of  defences  within  the 
fortifications.  And  there,"  he  added  fiercely, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  "we  will  make  such 

855 


356         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

a  fight  that  all  Europe  shall  remember  us  for 
another  hundred  years  !  Come,  Frank,  you 
must  get  started,  for  if  you  are  out  after  dark 
you  might  stray  between  the  lines,  and  that 
would  be  unpleasant.  .  Ping !  ping !  You 
understand  !  " 

Frank  and  the  general  went  out,  as  they 
talked,  to  the  front  of  the  redoubt,  and  stood 
for  a  few  minutes  fully  exposed  to  the  fire 
from  the  "Yersaillist  batteries,  continuing 
their  conversation  and  watching  the  grand 
spectacle  before  them. 

The  Versaillists  had  now  been  besieging 
Paris  since  the  7th  or  8th  of  April.  Slowly 
the  old  patriot,  Thiers,  who  had  worked 
so  vigorously  for  the  young  republic  when 
it  was  under  the  heels  of  the  Prussians,  in 
the  dread  war  which  had  closed  in  January 
of  that  year,  was  massing  a  large  army,  ready 
to  be  hurled  into  Paris  to  grapple  with  the 
mammoth  insurrection. 

At  that  moment  there  were  nearly  a  hun- 
dred thousand  soldiers  of  all  arms  engaged  in 
the  siege,  and  commanded  by  such  able  offi- 


FRANK   SAVES   LAURETTE.  357 

cers  as  the  veteran  Marshal  McMahon,  as 
L'Admiruult,  Vinoy,  Douay,  CJinchant,  and 
De  Cissey. 

These  generals  had  at  least  had  experience, 
and  the  commanders  of  the  Communist  troops 
had  little  or  none. 

Dombrowski  and  his  fellow-officers  saw  the 
circle  of  iron  tightening  daily  around  them. 

They  were  like  that  prisoner  in  a  dungeon 
in  some  forgotten  year  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
who  saw  day  by  day  that  his  cell  grew  nar- 
rower, and  found  that  he  was  to  be  crushed  to 
death  by  the  cruel  iron  walls  moved  by  invis- 
ible machinery. 

The  forces  o^  the  Federated  National 
Guard — that  is,  the  Communists — were  now 
rapidly  melting  away.  Many  a  battalion 
which  had  its  ranks  full  at  sunrise  numbered 
but  twenty  or  thirty  men  at  sunset. 

Dombrowski  had  just  been  told  that  there 
were  not  men  enough  in  the  redoubt  of  Mont- 
rouge  to  man  it  properly.  Wearied  by  the 
incessant  lighting,  the  poor  Communists,  find- 
ing that  they  had  been  misguided — that  the 
uprising  which  they  had  made  in  the  name  of 


358         UNDEK  THE  RED  FLAG. 

liberty  and  local  self-government  had  been 
slowly  perverted  to  a  Socialistic  revolution — 
melted  away,  and  disappeared  in  the  masses 
of  Paris. 

The  Commune  threatened  them,  but  in  vain. 
They  returned  to  their  homes,  and  only  the 
desperate  and  resolute — the  men  who  had 
vowed  a  terrible  vengeance  npon  society — 
remained. 

"Look,  Frank!"  cried  the  general,  "isn't 
it  a  magnificent  sight  ?  " 

Frank  could  not  speak.  His  throat  was 
choked.  Tears  swam  in  his  eyes  as  he 
thought  of  the  dreadful  tragedy  so  soon  to 
finish  this  terrible  civil  war,  and  to  crush  in 
its  red  embrace  men  like  Dombrowski. 

They  stood  together  on  a  little  eminence 
within  the  redoubt,  but  commanding  a  superb 
view  of  the  beautiful  slopes  on  which  the 
chateau  of  Issy  stood ;  of  the  grand  expanse 
of  Meudon's  forest,  fresh  with  the  tender 
green  leaves  of  spring  ;  the  great  sloping  hills, 
covered  with  villas  and  monuments,  which 
ended  at  the  Seine,  along  the  bluish -green 


FKANK   SAVES   LAURETTE.  3o9 

waters  of  which  tranquil  stream  a  Communist 
gunboat  was  swiftly  gliding. 

"Do  you  see  that  gunboat?"  said  the 
general. 

Frank  nodded  his  head. 

"  I  want  you  to  take  a  private  despatch 
from  me  to  the  commander.  He  has  orders 
to  put  in  at  a  point  just  below  Bas-Meudon, 
and  to  wait  for  my  messenger  at  nine  this 
evening.  You  will  have  to  get  down  to  the 
stream  before  nightfall,  and  have  a  boat  ready 
at  the  centre  of  the  bend  in  the  stream,  where 
we  have  a  strong  post.  Be  careful,  for  it  is  a 
hot  place  !  You  will  be  right  under  Issy,  and 
with  the  Versaillists  close  to  you  in  two  direc- 
tions. The  message  is  important.  Will  you 
take  it?" 

"  Of  course,"  said  Frank. 

"It  was  an  afterthought,"  said  the  general. 
"I  would  rather  that  you  had  taken  my 
advice  and  gotten  out  of  danger  through  the 
Prussian  lines.  But  since  you  have  decided 
that  you  must  go  back  into  Paris,  when  you 
reach  the  gunboat,  stay  on  it,  and  the  com- 
mander will  land  you  safely." 


360         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Frank  turned  liis  gaze  to  the  vast  city  which 
lay  basking  in  the  charming  May  morning,  as 
still  and  peaceful  as  if  it  were  some  Oriental 
capital  from  which  all  bustle  and  movement 
had  departed,  instead  of  a  city  filled  with  two 
millions  of  anxious  men  and  women — with  a 
desperate  rebel  army  in  its  centre  and  an 
angry  national  army  at  its  gates. 

The  mellow  thunder  of  the  cannonading 
seemed  like  the  notes  of  some  great  organ, 
played  for  the  delight  of  Frank  and  the 
general  while  they  gazed  at  this  exquisite 
scene. 

But  as  they  moved  to  the  outer  line  of  the 
redoubt,  where  a  few  Communists  were  still 
popping  through  the  loopholes  at  the  Ver- 
saillist  advanced  batteries  hardly  five  hun- 
dred yards  away,  a  rude  reminder  of  the 
danger  of  war  came  to  them  in  the  shape  of 
a  shell,  which  slid  along  the  ground  almost 
at  their  feet,  and  then  paused,  smoking 
ominously. 

The  soldiers  began  to  scatter  in  various 
directions. 

"  Halte-ld  !  "  cried  Dombrowski,  in  his  ring- 


FRANK   SAVES  LAURETTE.  361 

ing  tones.  "  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  lesson 
in  bravery."  Then  addressing  Frank  in  Eng- 
lish, he  said:  "Frank,  pick  up  that  smoking 
citizen  there,  and  pitch  him  back  over  the 
redoubt.  Quick !  No  time  to  lose  ! " 

The  Communists  yelled  with  fright,  and 
motioned  madly  to  Frank  to  run  away.  But 
he  coolly  picked  up  the  shell,  which  was 
heavy  and  strained  his  arms.  He  made  two 
bounds  to  the  top  of  the  parapet ;  then,  with 
a  tremendous  effort,  he  brought  the  shell 
above  his  head  and  cast  it  down  into  the 
ravaged  lands  below. 

As  he  did  so  a  bullet  whistled  past  one  of 
his  temples  and  cut  off  a  lock  of  his  hair. 
"Down,  boy,  down!"  said  Dombrowski. 
"That  was  bravely  done!  -Now  I  know  that 
you  are  the  man  to  carry  my  despatch." 

The  soldiers  cheered  Frank,  and  crowded 
about  him  to  compliment  him  as  he  came  into 
the  redoubt. 

An  hour  later  Frank  started  on  what  was 
really  a  perilous  mission.  In  the  few  weeks 
during  which  he  had  been  with  the  general 
he  had  learned  much  of  the  topography  of 


362        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Paris  and  its  suburbs,  and  of  the  relative 
positions  of  besiegers  and  besieged. 

Now  he  was  going  to  carry  a  message  of 
grave  importance.  It  would  have  been  easy  to 
go  into  Paris  by  one  of  the  military  trains 
which  the  Communists  ran  from  time  to  time, 
without  any  risk  of  capture,  and  to  begin  at 
once  his  search  for  Will  and  Grandpa  Drubal 
and  Marcelle.  But  here  was  a  duty  to  do  for 
the  general  who  had  so  generously  befriended 
him,  and  he  would  do  it,  even  though  he 
might  lose  his  life  in  the  attempt. 

The  general  accompanied  him  a  short  dis- 
tance on  the  road,  which  wound  down  the 
hill  below  the  redoubt  and  dangerously  near 
to  Issy,  which  was  packed  with  Versaillist 
troops.  After  giving  him  the  message  he 
took  Frank's  head  between  his  hands,  and 
bending  back,  looked  long  and  lovingly  into 
the  fearless  young  eyes. 

"Good-by!"  he  said.  "  Remember  Dom- 
browski.  If  you  ever  need  me  later,  send 
for  me.  You  are  brave.  Such  things  seem 
natural  to  me,  for  I  am  a  soldier's  son.  Good 
luck,  Frank!  I  hope  you  will  find  your 


FRANK   SAVES   LAURETTE.  363 

brother  and  your  grandfather  very  soon.  But 
it  is  strange," — a  cloud  of  worry  passed  across 
his  brow, — "  I  have  hunted  everywhere,  and 
I  can  find  no  trace  of  them.  Better  luck  for 
you.  Good-by  !  " 

"I  shall  see  you  soon  in  Paris,"  said 
Frank  cheerily. 

Then,  after  a  few  practical  instructions  as  to 
the  dangers  of  the  way,  the  general  let  him  go. 

An  immense  loneliness  fell  upon  Frank  as 
he  began  to  descend  the  steep  white  road 
which  ran  just  outside  the  redoubt.  He 
turned  to  look  back  at  Dombrowski,  and  saw 
him  standing  still  in  the  middle  of  the  road, 
gazing  wistfully  after  him. 

He  felt  that  if  he  looked  another  instant 
he  should  turn  back  and  rush  into  the  kind 
general's  arms.  So  he  waved  a  last  fare- 
well to  him,  and  then  ran  as  fast  as  he  could 
around  a  corner. 

And  now  he  began  to  see  what  a  dread 
thing  war  is.  There  was  not  a  live  man,  wo- 
man, child,  or  animal  to  be  seen  in  the  fields. 
Not  a  bird  sang  from  any  of  the  freshly  bud- 


364  TINDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

ding  trees  or  hedges.  The  villas  were  de- 
serted ;  their  windows  were  protected  by 
wooden  shutters,  and  their  gates  were  locked. 
But  if  life  lacked,  there  was  death  all  around. 
At  the  entrance  to  a  thicket  lay  two  handsome 
young  men  in  Communist  uniforms.  Evi- 
dently they  had  both  been  struck  down  by  the 
same  shell,  which  had  come  hurtling  and  hiss- 
ing from  the  batteries  on  the  plateau  of 
Meudon. 

There  was  a  pleasant  smile  on  their  faces, 
and  the  younger  of  the  two  had  his  arm  about 
the  other's  neck.  They  were  brothers,  thought 
Frank. 

Five  hundred  yards  further  down  Frank 
passed  a  dead  horseman  lying  beside  his  dead 
horse.  A  cruel  shell  had  struck  and  hurled 
horse  and  rider  into  death.  While  he  was 
looking  at  the  man,  who  had  evidently  been  a 
Communist  orderly  carrying  despatches,  he 
heard  a  crash  in  the  road  jnst  below  him, 
and  saw  fragments  of  iron  flying  in  all 
directions. 

Then  he  remembered  that  he  was  passing 
perilously  near  to  Fort  Issy,  and  had  probably 


FRANK  SAVES   LAURETTE.  865 

been  sighted  by  the  Versaillists.  He  hugged 
the  hedges,  plunged  into  the  thickets,  took 
short  cuts  through  bits  of  garden  and  wood, 
and  so  worked  steadily  down  toward  the 
Seine. 

From  time  to  time  he  heard  bugles  blown  on 
the  heights  above  him.  The  melodious  thun- 
der of  the  cannonade  went  on  unceasingly, 
and  seemed  to  lull  Frank  to  repose.  Once  he 
lay  down  in  a  cool  nook,  and  closed  his  eyes 
for  a  few  minutes. 

But  he  sprang  up  in  terror,  for  he  thought 
he  heard  the  clatter  of  hoofs  on  the  road. 
Had  he  strayed  out  of  the  Communist  lines  ? 

Yes,  there  was  no  doubt  of  it !  there  was  a 
horseman  approaching.  Frank  stepped  into 
a  garden  which  had  a  fine  boxwood  hedge, 
and,  crouching  down,  he  awaited  the  passage 
of  the  new-comer. 

Presently  the  sound  drew  nearer.  Frank 
pushed  his  head  into  the  stiff  box  shrubbery, 
and  managed  to  make  a  little  aperture  through 
which  he  could  distinctly  see  the  passer-by. 

What  he  saw  almost  froze  his  blood  with 
horror. 


366         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

The  horseman  was  a  gendarme  in  immacu- 
late uniform,  with  his  shiny  boots  gleaming 
in  the  sun,  and  the  tri-color  on  his  cocked 
hat  proclaiming  his  devotion  to  the  cause  of 
Versailles. 

A  carbine  lay  across  his  saddle.  In  one 
hand  he  held  a  cocked  pistol ;  with  the  other 
he  controlled  the  bridle  reins.  Horse  and 
man  were  so  trim  and  neat  that  they  looked 
as  if  they  were  carved  out  of  black  and  red 
marble. 

Frank's  eyes  dilated  with  terror  and  a  faint 
cry  sprang  to  his  lips.  Beside  the  gendarme's 
horse  walked,  or  rather  trotted,  a  young 
woman,  whose  hair  was  dishevelled,  whose 
shoulders  were  bare,  whose  face  was  livid  with 
fatigue  and  fright. 

The  woman  was  attached  by  one  wrist  to  a 
rope,  one  end  of  which  was  knotted  to  the 
gendarme's  saddle-bow.  Her  other  arm  was 
tied  down  to  her  side. 

She  walked  slowly  and  painfully,  and 
uttered  cries  of  distress  as  if  she  had  been 
wounded.  Frank's  heart  beat  so  loudly  that 
he  felt  sure  the  gendarme  would  hear  it. 


FRANK   SAVES   LAURETTE.  367 

For  the  woman  thus  dragged  along  by  the 
gendarme  was  Laurette  ! 

Yes,  Laurette,  the  dashing  and  energetic 
cantiniere  of  the  famous  101st  Battalion. 
Laurette,  the  cousin  of  Jules  Raisin  ! 

Frank  had  a  huge  clasp  knife  in  his  pocket, 
with  a  remarkably  keen  blade.  He  also  had 
a  revolver  which  Dombrowski  had  given  him. 
But  he  had  no  idea  of  using  that. 

Like  a  flash  he  had  made  up  his  mind. 

The  presence  of  the  gendarme  was  sufficient 
proof  that  Frank  had  strayed  into  the  Ver- 
saillist  lines,  and  he  might  find  his  way 
blocked  by  a  patrol  at  any  instant.  But — to 
free  Laurette!  That  was  the  thing  to  do 
now ! 

The  road  turned  a  little  as  it  ascended  the 
hill,  and  the  gendarme  checked  his  horse's 
speed  as  they  went  up,  Laurette  hobbling 
wearily  along  to  what  she  felt  was  certain 
death. 

Frank  opened  his  knife  and  took  it  in  one 
hand.  Then  he  slipped  off  his  shoes,  and 
catching  them  up  in  the  other  hand,  he 
flew  out  of  the  garden  as  noiselessly  as  a 


368         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

ghost,  and  sped   after  the  gendarme  and  his 
prisoner. 

The  gendarme,  flushed  with  the  triumph  of 
having  made  a  capture,  and  believing  himself 
out  of  danger,  did  not  look  around. 

Suddenly  Laurette  saw  a  lithe  figure  shoot 
in  between  her  and  her  captor,  saw  a  blade 
gleam,  and  felt  the  rope  which  bound  her  to 
the  saddle  give  way.  At  the  same  moment 
the  gendarme's  carbine  fell  toward  Laurette, 
as  the  startled  horse  sprang  np  the  hill.  She 
caught  the  weapon  with  her  free  arm,  wheeled 
it  dexterously  around,  and  discharged  it  in 
the  gendarme's  face,  as  he  turned  and  fired  a 
pistol  at  her. 

The  blood  from  a  wound  on  his  head  was 
blinding  him.  He  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and 
disappeared  around  a  second  corner.  Frank 
flew  to  Laurette  and  cut  the  lashings  which 
bound  her  other  arm. 

She  stood  for  half  a  minute  looking  vaguely 
at  him  ;  then  a  flash  of  recognition  came  into 
her  eyes.  She  seized  Frank  by  the  hand  and 
urged  him  into  the  vineyard,  opposite  the 
garden  where  he  had  been  hiding. 


FRANK  CUTS  THE  ROPE. 


FRANK   SAVES   LAURETTE.  369 

Then,  beckoning  him  to  follow,  she  set  off 
down  hill  as  fast  as  her  weary  limbs  would 
carry  her. 

Frank  followed  joyously.  It  seemed  to  him 
as  if,  in  finding  Laurette,  and  saving  her,  he 
had  gained  a  powerful  ally  in  his  work  of 
hunting  for  Grandpa  Drubal  and  little  WilL 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  ADVANCED   POST  BY  THE  SEINE. 

"TAURETTE  suddenly  made  a  sign  to 
JL.J  Frank  to  halt,  and  at  the  same  instant 
fell  forward  so  lightly  to  the  ground  that  it 
seemed  as  if  she  were  melting  into  the  dusty 
soil. 

He  followed  her  example.  Then  came  the 
familiar  hiss  and  ping !  ping !  of  bullets,  and 
clouds  of  dust  arose  all  around  them. 

Frank  raised  his  head  a  little.  Ping! 
another  bullet  came,  and  he  felt  a  sharp 
twitch  of  his  hair. 

"The  marksman  wants  a  lock  to  remember 
me  by  !"  thought  Frank. 

They  were  lying  on  the  edge  of  a  stone 
terrace  or  embankment,  built  to  protect  a 
large  vineyard  below;  and  they  had  evi- 
dently been  sighted  from  some  battery  above, 
invisible  to  them. 


'• 


THE    ADVANCED   POST   BY   THE   SEINE.      371 

Laurette  was  cool,  and  Frank  admired  the 
courageous  stillness  of  the  woman,  while  the 
bullets  sang  around  her  like  angry  bees.  He 
felt  like  rising  up  and  challenging  the  unseen 
enemy  to  come  into  the  open,  and  he  might 
have  done  it  if  he  had  not  observed  Laurette 
slowly  crawling,  for  all  the  world  like  an 
Indian  of  the  wild  West,  toward  the  end  of 
the  terrace.  When  she  reached  it  she  hung 
her  head  over,  as  if  judging  of  the  height. 
Then  she  raised  her  right  foot,  waved  it  as  if 
beckoning  to  Frank,  and  swung  over  out  of 
igbt. 

"Oho!  there  isn't  far  to  fall,"  thought 
Frank;  "and  I'm  bound  to  follow." 

He  crawled,  like  Laurette,  to  the  edge,  and 
saw  her,  sitting  quite  still,  with  her  head 
against  a  tree  and  her  eyes  closed. 

The  terrace  was  twelve  feet  high,  and  Lau- 
rette had  fainted  after  her  rather  hasty  fall, 
which  had,  fortunately,  been  somewhat 
broken  by  the  loose  sand  in  a  ditch. 

Frank  swung  down,  catching  hold  of  a  pro- 
jecting stone,  regardless  of  the  bullets.  In 
the  vineyard  they  were  sheltered  from  their 


372         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

enemies  above.  But  might  they  not  be 
coming  upon  new  enemies  below  ? 

He  knew  that  if  he  were  caught  witli  Gen- 
eral Dombrowski's  despatch  in  his  pocket,  he 
would  be  pushed  against  the  first  wall  and 
shot  like  a  dog. 

Lanrette  opened  her  eyes  and  smiled  when 
she  saw  that  Frank  was  safe.  Then  she  shook 
her  clenched  hand  at  the  enemies  above,  and 
managed  to  stagger  to  her  feet,  talking  rap- 
idly all  the  time  to  Frank. 

He  understood  hardly  a  word  that  she  said, 
but  hearing  Jules  Raisin's  name  mentioned, 
he  used  the  little  French  which  Dombrowski 
had  taught  him  to  ask  where  the  barber- 
soldier  might  be. 

His  heart  beat  rapidly  when  he  learned  from 
Laurette's  pantomimic  gestures,  rather  than 
from  her  speech,  that  they  were  on  the  way  to 
his  post,  but  that  the  route  was  very  danger- 
ous, and  that  they  must  be  prudent. 

And  now  they  came  to  a  narrow  flight  of 
ancient  stone  stairs,  overhung  with  vines  and 
shrubbery  through  which  the  May  sunshine 
had  not  penetrated.  Down  this  long  stairway 


THE   ADVANCED    POST   BY    THE   SEINE.      373 

they  glided  like  ghosts,  flitting  past  the  en- 
trances to  lovely  villas  standing  on  smooth 
lawns  amid  fountains  and  bosquets  of  flowers. 
Once  or  twice  they  heard  the  scream  of 
shells  ;  but  they  saw  no  soldiers,  and  Laurette 
became  less  cautions  as  they  approached  the 
river  Seine,  which  wound  around  the  base  of 
the  high  hill. 

As  they  reached  the  lowest  step,  Laurette 
turned  to  Frank,  and  explained  to  him  in  her 
pantomime  that  as  soon  as  they  emerged  into 
the  sunshine  they  must  run  for  their  lives. 

When  she  saw  that  Frank  was  ready  to  lead 
the  way  if  necessary,  the  bright  tears  danced 
in  her  eyes.  She  patted  Frank's  glowing 
cheek,  and  paid  him  so  handsome  a  compli- 
ment that  he  would  have  been  embarrassed 
had  he  understood  it. 

Out  into  the  sunshine  and  away  they  went ! 
There  before  them  rolled  the  current  of  the 
Seine,  which,  near  Bas-Meudon,  at  the  point 
where  they  now  were,  is  a  broad  and  impetu- 
ous stream.  Frank  caught  one  glimpse  of 
the  wooded  banks  crowned  with  villas,  the 
picturesque  inns  clustered  in  the  gardens,  and 


374  UNDER  THE    RED   FLAG. 

the  pleasure  boats  huddled  together,  desolate 
in  the  dreary  war  days;  then  he  saw  a  battery, 
with  trenches  in  front  of  it,  and  five  Versaillist 
soldiers  aiming  at  him. 

He  leaped  like  a  deer,  and  followed  Lau- 
rette,  while  the  bullets  hissed  and  spluttered. 
Frank's  heart  beat  wildly.  He  felt  that  he 
would  like  to  have  a  gun,  and  charge  the  sol- 
diers so  comfortably  entrenched  there. 

A  few  more  bounds,  and  they  came  upon 
the  familiar  National  Guard  uniforms,  and 
saw  a  slouching  sentinel  ready  to  halt  them. 

Laurette  caught  Frank's  hand,  led  the 
youth  behind  a  clump  of  trees,  down  a  few 
rude  steps,  past  a  long  earth  wall,  through  a 
bomb-proof  sleeping  apartment,  where  twenty 
Communists  were  harmoniously  snoring,  and 
then  sank  down  exhausted  upon  the  green 
turf. 

Half  a  dozen  soldiers  rushed  forward,  utter- 
ing cries  of  astonishment,  and  a  moment  later, 
Frank,  who  was  dazed  by  his  long  run,  felt 
two  strong  arms  about  him,  and  received  a 
hearty  salute,  in  French  fashion,  from  two 
bearded  lips. 


THE   ADVANCED   POST   BY   THE  SEINE.      375 

"  Citizen  Frank,  by  all  that's  strange!" 
said  a  familiar  voice.  And  Frank,  springing 
out  of  bis  half-fainting  condition,  recognized 
Jules  Raisin,  and  grasped  his  manly  hand. 

"Sit  down,  Frank !  You  look  like  you  had 
seen  a  ghost !  "  cried  the  ex-barber,  who  was 
now  decorated  with  a  pair  of  enormous 
spurs,  which  clicked  tremendously  when  he 
walked,  and  whose  waist  was  encircled  by  a 
fiery  red  sash,  tattered  and  weather-stained. 
"  Bon  Dieu  !  Where  did  you  find  Laurette  ? 
We  thought  she  had  already  reached  Dom- 
browski  with  a  message,  and  here  she  is  back 
again." 

While  the  soldiers  were  caring  for  Laurette, 
who  seemed  to  have  fallen  into  a  kind  of  stu- 
por, Frank  told  his  story  in  a  few  words. 
He  did  not  say  that  he  was  the  bearer  of  a 
message  from  Dombrowski,  but  told  Jules 
Raisin  that  he  must  go  into  Paris  that  night, 
and  that  he  would  go  on  board  the  gunboat 
when  it  came  to  anchor  near  by,  late  that 
evening. 

"  Gunboat !  "  said  Jules  Raisin.  "  Grand 
Dieu!  Laurette  was  carrying  a  message  to 


376         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

Dombrowski  to  say  that  the  gunboats  are  all 
to  be  withdrawn,  for  some  unknown  reason. 
More  of  the  Commune's  nonsense,  I  suppose  ! 
If  we  were  to  get  a  message  from  Paris  at  any 
moment  to  swim  back  into  the  city,  I  should 
not  be  surprised.  Nothing  is  too  mad,  too 
imbecile,  for  those  fellows  to  decree.  To  think 
that  they  should  stop  the  gunboats— the  only 
things  which  made  our  advance  post  merely 
tenable.  No,  no,  mon  pauvre  garQon,  you 
can't  get  into  Paris  that  way.  Better  go 
along  with  us  ;  we  shall  have  to  beat  a  retreat 
within  forty-eight  hours.  And  where  are 
Grandpa  Drubal  and  little  Will?" 

The  tears  which  dimmed  Frank's  eyes  were 
a  sudden  revelation  to  Jules  Raisin. 

He  tapped  his  brow  in  the  theatrical  French 
manner.  He  shook  his  fist  at  some  invisible 
enemy.  He  raised  his  hands  toward  heaven 
as  if  invoking  justice  upon  some  offender. 
Then  he  said : 

"You  have  lost  them,  eh?" 

Frank  told  his  adventures  since  the  day 
when  he  was  rescued  by  Dombrowski  from  the 
mob  which  thought  he  was  a  spy. 


THE   ADVANCED   POST  BY   THE  SEINE.      377 

Jules  Raisin  counted  on  his  fingers,  reflected 
a  minute,  then  cried  out : 

"That  was  just  the  time  when  Jean  Yer- 
cingetorix  Durand  was  arrested  by  the  Com- 
mune and  sent  into  Paris.  He  was  accused  of 
being  a  traitor  because  we  were  beaten  in  a 
certain  fight.  At  that  time  I  thought  that 
they  would  be  likely  to  arrest  Marcelle  also." 
Then  he  slapped  his  thigh  and  shouted: 
"Frank!  That  is  why  Marcelle,  little  Will, 
and  Grandpa  Drubal  have  disappeared.  You 
may  be  sure  of  it !  They  have  all  been  put 
in  prison  as  accomplices  of  Jean  Ver— oh, 
that  long-named  fellow  !  It  makes  me  wild 
to  think  what  misery  his  blunders  may  have 
caused.  Tenez,  if  I  had  him  here,  I  would 
box  his  ears  for  him !  But,  poor  boy,  you 
look  faint.  Hola,  there !  a  flask  of  wine. 
This  boy  is  faint!" 

When  a  soldier  came  up,  scowling  at  Frank, 
Jules  Raisin  whispered:  "  A  messenger  from 
Dombrowski ;  secret  orders!"  and  in  a  few 
minutes  he  was  reposing  in  the  centre  of  a 
group  of  Communist  warriors,  each  of  whom 
requested  the  honor  of  drinking  his  health. 


378         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

,  Frank  looked  at  the  soldiers  carefully.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  they  had  already  been 
drinking  too  much.  There  was  a  wildness  in 
their  looks,  and  a  hard  and  drawn  expression 
of  the  face,  as  if  they  were  in  mortal  dread. 
Declining  the  wine,  he  reflected  on  Jules 
Raisin's  words.  Was  it  possible  that  poor 
little  Will  was  languishing  in  some  gloomy 
prison  ?  Perhaps  all  his  dear  ones  had  been 
killed,  and  he  was  at  that  moment  alone  in 
the  world. 

The  thought  was  so  terrible  that  he  felt 
as  if  he  must  start  on  the  instant  for  Paris. 
And  what  should  he  do  with  Dombrowski's 
message  ?  What  was  his  duty  ? 

He  went  to  Jules  Raisin,  half  inclined  to 
tell  him  of  the  message,  and  to  ask  his  advice. 
But  on  reflection  he  decided  to  wait.  Per- 
haps the  gunboat  would  come,  after  all. 

Frank  found  Laurette  quite  recovered,  and 
serving  out  rations  of  spirits  to  the  soldiers 
from  the  miniature  keg  slung  at  her  side. 

As  she  served  she  sang  merry  songs,  and  the 
men,  some  of  whom  were  soon  going  forward 
to  the  trenches,  joined  gayly  in  the  chorus. 


THE  ADVANCED   POST  BY   THE  SEINE.      379 

Jokes  and  puns  filled  the  air.  An  old  fel- 
low, who  looked  as  if  he  might  have  been  a 
night  watchman  in  civil  life,  danced  a  drunken 
measure  or  two,  then  went  tipsily  away,  car- 
rying his  gun  so  that  if  it  had  gone  off  it 
would  certainly  have  killed  him.  There  was 
much  embracing ;  altogether  too  much  repeti- 
tion of  "citizen"  and  "brother";  very  much  too 
much  drinking  of  spirits  out  of  little  glasses. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  said  Frank  in  a 
whisper  to  Jules  Raisin.  "Is  this  a  picnic  or 
an  advanced  post?  If  Dombrowski  should 
know  about  this,  he  would  have  the  battalion 
sent  into  Paris  for  judgment.  I  have  seen 
him  do  sterner  things  than  that." 

"It  means,"  said  Jules  Raisin,  "that  we 
are  demoralized.  We  are  cut  off,  and  expect 
to  be  captured.  The  Yersaillists  hold  off 
because,  when  they  have  attacked  us  before, 
the  gunboats  have  steamed  around  the  bend 
and  shelled  them.  But  when  they  learn  that 
the  gunboats  will  come  no  more,  it  will  be 
'&07i  soir  la  compagniej  as  I  have  the  honor 
to  inform  you.  The  Commune's  game  is  up. 
But  Vive  la  Commune  !  " 


380         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

The  ex-barber  laughed  hysterically  as  he 
cheered  and  threw  his  cap  into  the  air. 
Something  in  his  look  made  Frank  feel  chilly. 
He  had  seen  hunted  animals  showing  their 
teeth  with  just  that  expression.  He  felt 
deeply  sorry  for  Jules  Raisin. 

"But  there  is  no  danger  for  the  moment," 
continued  Jules  Raisin.  "Come  down  here 
out  of  range  and  we  will  take  some  repose." 

As  Frank  turned  to  follow  the  ex-barber,  he 
felt  a  timid  touch  upon  his  arm.  He  looked 
around  and  saw  Laurette,  with  her  eyes  shin- 
ing strangely.  She  was  trying  to  speak,  but 
the  big  tears  were  chasing  each  other  down 
her  cheeks,  and  her  lips  trembled.  Finally 
she  succeeded  in  muttering  a  few  words,  and 
seizing  Frank's  right  hand,  she  kissed  it. 

"  She  says  that  you  saved  her  life,  and  that 
she  would  willingly  give  up  hers  to  save 
you,"  said  Jules  Raisin,  who  appeared  a  little 
annoyed  at  this  incident.  "There,  there, 
Laurette!"  he  added  in  French,  "you  must 
be  gay  !  Don't  you  see  how  gay  we  all  are?" 

Laurette  turned  away,  and  Frank  followed 
Jules  Raisin  to  the  lawn  of  a  villa  on  the 


THE  ADVANCED   POST   BY   THE  SEINE.      381 

hillside  so  hidden  that  the  forts  could  not 
shell  it,  and  out  of  reach  of  Versaillist  bullets. 
Here  a  score  of  Communists  were  gathered 
about  a  piano,  which  had  been  dragged  from 
the  drawing-room  of  the  villa  to  the  lawn,  and 
was  now  resounding  to  the  vigorous  touch  of 
a  captain  who  in  times  of  peace  was  a  teacher 
of  music. 

"Come,  citizen  captain,"  said  Jules  Raisin, 
"give  us  the  'Marseillaise,'  in  honor  of  my 
young  American  friend  here,  who  has  come 
straight  from  Dombrowski." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  the  soldiers ;  "the 'Mar- 
seillaise,' and  open  a  few  bottles  while  we 
sing  the  grand  old  song ! " 

Half  a  dozen  merry  fellows  rushed  into  the 
cellar  of  the  villa,  and  soon  came  out  with 
their  arms  filled  with  wine  bottles  and  glasses. 
Frank  observed  with  a  sigh  that  Jules  Raisin 
dropped  into  a  broken  arm-chair  and  held  out 
his  glass  as  the  others  did. 

Then  the  great  song,  with  its  strident 
chorus,  came  to  add  its  note  of  insanity  to  the 
general  craze. 

The  red  flag  was  flourished,  and  the  men 


382         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

danced  around  it  like  satyrs.  The  wine 
bottles  were  upset,  and  the  ruddy  liquid 
flowed  down  upon  the  piano  keys  and  stained 
the  players  hands,  so  that  he  seemed  to  have 
come  red-handed  from  some  murder  to  play 
and  sing  the  "  Marseillaise." 

The  boom  of  cannon,  near  and  far,  made  a 
kind  of  refrain  to  the  song.  In  the  warm  May 
afternoon  the  sleepy  air  vibrated  with  the 
shocks  of  the  x^assionate  voices. 

Frank  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  Seine,  a 
long  stretch  of  which  was  visible  from  the 
point  where  he  sat.  And  over  and  over  again 
he  asked  himself  this  question  :  Will  the  gun- 
boat come? 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  CAPTURE  BY  NIGHT. 

WHEN  Frank  went  to  bed  that  night  in 
the  garret  of  the  villa,  where  he  tried 
to  repose  his  cramped  limbs  on  a  child's  bed 
which  was  too  short  for  him,  his  heart  felt 
very  heavy. 

No  gunboat  had  appeared.  Jules  Raisin's 
gloomy  prophecies  seemed  likely  to  be 
verified. 

The  night  was  moonless  and  black.  The 
darkness  was  so  dense  that  it  was  almost 
frightful.  The  window  of  the  garret  was 
open,  and  the  boy  could  hear  some  drunken 
Communists  snoring  upon  the  grass  below. 
Afar  off,  a  fort  kept  up  the  useless  booming 
of  its  cannon.  There  were  no  other  noises. 
Enrth  and  water  seemed  wrapped  in  dreamless, 
motionless  slumber. 

Frank  could  not  sleep.     Laurette  was  in  the 


884         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

chamber  below  him,  and  once  or  twice  she 
called  gently  to  him,  in  words  which  he  dimly 
understood  to  mean  a  command  to  go  to  sleep, 
and  not  to  worry.  But  the  thought  of  the 
dangers  in  which  the  boy  Will  and  his  grand- 
father might  be  at  that  moment  tortured  him. 
By  and  by  nature  asserted  her  sway,  and 
Frank's  weary  eyes  closed.  He  fancied  that 
he  could  hear  the  whirr  of  a  steamer  ;  yes,  the 
gunboat  was  coming  at  last.  But  it  was  only 
in  a  dream.  Frank  was  sound  asleep. 

He  was  awakened  after  he  had  slept  nearly 
three  hours  by  what  seemed  to  him  like  the 
crackling  of  wood  in  an  immense  fire.  His 
first  impression  was  that  the  villa  was  in 
flames.  But  as  he  grew  fully  awake,  he  re- 
alized that  the  sound  came  from  rattling 
volleys  of  musketry,  rapidly  coming  nearer. 

He  sprang  out  of  bed  and  ran  to  the  open 
window.  Some  of  the  Communists  were  run- 
ning about  whispering  to  each  other.  The 
musketry  fire  grew  louder,  came  nearer.  Then 
Frank  heard  an  immense  clatter  of  swords 
and  bayonets,  and  at  that  instant  one  of  the 


THE   CAPTURE  BY   NIGHT.  385 

Communists  under  the  window  sleepily  blew 
a  bugle. 

Just  then  came  a  low  "  Hist ! "  from  the 
trap-door  through  which  Frank  had  climbed 
to  the  garret.  He  could  not  see  Laurette's 
face,  but  he  knew  it  was  there. 

"  ffabilles-toij  et  descends!"  he  heard  her 
say.  "  Je  vais  tacJicr  de  te  sauver  la  me. 
Nous  sommes  pris  /  "  [Dress  yourself  and 
come  down.  I'm  going  to  try  to  save  your 
life.  We  are  taken  !] 

By  the  tremor  in  her  voice  he  knew  that 
disaster  had  come.  He  had  understood  her 
first  phrnse,  and  he  hurried  on  his  clothes  and 
clambered  down  the  steep  ladder  stairs.  Lau- 
rette  drew  him  to  her  side,  and  kissed  his 
forehead.  Then  she  pushed  him  to  the  win- 
dow of  her  room,  took  off  his  cap  and  threw 
it  out.  Frank  looked  puzzled,  but  in  a  minute 
it  flashed  across  him  that  Dombrowski  had 
told  him  the  cap  would  be  a  sentence  of  death 
if  the  Versaillists  saw  him  wearing  it. 

Laurette  next  fumbled  in  Frank's  pockets, 
found  his  pistol  and  tossed  it  out  into  the 
dark,  then,  taking  all  the  papers  which  she 


386  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

found  in  them  tore  them  into  little  bits,  and 
running  to  another  window  which  opened  at 
the  back,  threw  the  fragments  out.  Then  she 
lit  a  candle  and,  looking  keenly  at  Frank, 
said  : 

"  Papier s  !  Dombrowski  ? "  and  she  made 
a  motion  of  tearing  a  paper  quickly. 

Frank  explained  to  her  in  pantomime  that 
she  had  torn  up  with  the  other  papers  any 
message  from  Dombrowski  of  which  he  might 
have  been  the  bearer. 

"C'est  bon!"  she  said,  blowing  out  the 
light.  "  Quails  viennent  maintenant."  [All 
right ;  let  them  come  no\v.] 

She  threw  her  cloak  over  his  shoulders,  and 
forced  him  down  on  his  knees  beside  her  at 
the  window  which  overlooked  the  lawn. 
There  they  remained,  motionless,  scarcely 
breathing. 

Meantime  the  clamor  of  musketry  had 
ceased.  A  silence  as  of  death  succeeded  it. 
The  Communists  on  the  lawn  were  as  still 
as  statues. 

All  at  once  a  torch  flared  out  of  the  dark- 
ness ;  then  another,  and  another.  The  whole 


THE   CAPTURE  BY    NIGHT.  387 

scene  on  the  lawn  sprang  into  light ;  the 
piano,  with  its  wine-stained  keys,  the  huddled 
Communists,  grouped  like  sheep  in  a  slaugh- 
ter pen,  and  Jules  Raisin,  sound  asleep  in  an 
arm-chair  near  the  piano.  Not  all  the  noise  of 
the  fighting  had  served  to  arouse  Jules,  whose 
senses  were  locked  in  vinous  lethargy. 

Out  of  the  darkness  came  a  dozen  young 
soldiers,  in  long  blue  coats  and  red  trousers. 
The  Versaillists !  Frank  felt  Laurette's  hand 
tremble,  and  his  own  was  unsteady. 

Next  followed  a  tall  officer,  lean  and  angu- 
lar, booted  to  the  hips,  and  carrying  in  one 
hand  a  revolver,  in  the  other  a  heavy  oaken 
cane.  Then  more  troops ;  another  officer ;  a 
couple  of  gendarmes  on  foot ;  finally  a  group 
of  officers,  all  with  revolvers  and  canes. 

"Allans!"  said  the  lean,  angular  officer, 
in  a  harsh  voice  ;  "  J)alayez  moi  cela,  et  en 
avantf"  [Come,  sweep  this  out  of  the  way, 
and  forward  !] 

The  Communists  had  thrown  down  their 
arms  ;  one  of  them  held  up  a  white  handker- 
chief on  the  end  of  a  stick. 

The  officer  looked  about  him  for  a  seat.     He 


388  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

saw  Jules  Raisin,  heavily  asleep  in  the  arm- 
chair, and  a  sardonic  smile  lit  up  his  fierce 
face. 

"Is  the  fellow  dead  or  asleep?"  he  said. 
"Oil,  asleep,  is  it?  Well,  begin  with  him,  so 
that  I  can  take  his  chair." 

Two  soldiers  went  up  to  Jules  Raisin, 
roughly  raised  him,  and  shook  him  once  or 
twice.  He  opened  his  eyes,  gazed  around 
him,  was  sobered  in  an  instant,  and  recognized 
his  peril. 

"  Sorry  to  disturb  you,"  said  the  officer ; 
"but  I  wanted  to  sit  down,  and  you  won't 
need  the  chair  any  longer,  you  know." 

He  lifted  his  hat,  and  six  soldiers  formed 
in  line  and  pushed  Jules  Raisin  before  them 
toward  the  villa  wall. 

"Why,  they  are  bringing  him  in  here!" 
said  Frank  to  himself  in  amazement. 

At  that  instant  Laurette  threw  herself  upon 
Frank  and  clasped  her  hands  tightly  over  his 
mouth.  Before  he  could  resist,  the  sound  of 
several  shots  was  heard.  Then  Frank  threw 
Laurette  to  one  side  and  looked  out. 

Jules    Raisin    was     lying    face     downward 


THE  CAPTURE   BY   NIGHT.  389 

beside  the  villa  steps  ;  one  side  of  his  face  was 
covered  with  blood,  and  the  colonel  was 
quietly  taking  a  seat  in  Jules  Raisin's  chair. 

"There's  someone  stirring  upstairs  in  the 
villa,"  said  the  colonel.  "Search  the  rooms 
and  bring  everyone  before  me!" 

Frank  heard  a  convulsive  sob  and  felt 
Lnurette's  arm  tighten  around  him.  He  tried 
to  speak,  but  his  lips  could  not  utter  a  sound. 

Half  a  dozen  soldiers,  with  their  guns 
gripped  ready  for  action,  began  to  ascend  the 
steps  of  the  villa. 

Laurette  sprang  to  her  feet ;  her  lips 
touched  Frank's  brow  ;  then,  as  noiselessly  as 
a  falling  leaf,  she  crossed  the  room  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  shadows.  It  was  as  if  she 
had  suddenly  melted  into  air. 

In  thus  leaving  "Prank,  in  obedience  to  a 
sudden  inspiration,  she  was  really  giving  him 
one  chance  for  his  life. 

All  the  other  chances  were  against  him; 
and  had  he  been  found  with  a  Communist 
cantiniere  kneeling  beside  him,  there  would 
have  been  no  time  for  explanations. 

The  conquerors  were    instructed    to   shoot 


8iX>  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

first  and  apologize  afterward.  And  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten  they  obeyed  their  instructions 
to  the  letter. 

"I  can't  stay  here,"  thought  Frank,  "and 
be  caught  like  a  rat  in  a  trap.  It  is  my  duty 
to  save  my  life,  and  to  keep  up  the  search  for 
Grandpa  Drubal  and  little  Will." 

He  turned  in  the  darkness  with  some  vague 
notion  of  following  Laurette.  But  now  the 
shadows  were  illuminated ;  half  a  dozen  forms 
sprang  into  the  room,  and  three  bayonets  were 
laid  close  to  Frank's  breast  and  throat  before 
he  could  make  a  motion. 

The  point  of  one  of  the  bayonets  pierced  the 
skin,  and  Frank  felt  the  blood  flowing  from  a 
fiesh  wound  on  his  neck.  The  next  wound, 
lie  thought,  will  be  the  fatal  one.  He  closed 
his  eyes. 

But  the  soldiers  grasped  him  by  the  arms, 
and  drew  him  rapidly  out  of  the  room  and 
downstairs.  He  was  pushed  violently  forward 
as  be  reached  the  laws,  and  was  brought  to  a 
stand  by  another  push  from  a  gun-barrel  in 
front  of  him.  He  found  himself  facing  the 
fierce-looking  colonel,  who,  leaning  hack  in 


THE  CAPTTEE  BT   3TKJHT. 

his  arm-chair,  surveyed  Frank  with  a  stare  of 
astonishment, 

Frank  certain!  y  looked  as  if  be  had  been  im 
a  fight  Hatless,  with  Lis  clothes  ton  aad 
diswVied  bj  the  •nMifim'  rude  grasp,  with 
kair  duhctefled,  amd  the  pvpOs  o€  his  eyes 
•^Kia^J  by  Ae  honor  of  the  spectacle  ••••i^f 
him.  LemigliteasfljhaTebeemsflistakesi&ra 


/"  said  the  oo}os*eL 
"Itissad.  But  away  with  Mm  !  Sotimeto 
snivel  over  urchins  who  fight  •£,"'•* 
conn  try/' 

A  heary  hand  fen  upon  Fraak  s 
Osc  OK  the  two  s^estdarsses  had  setsed  hiss  avsl 
wastBnughim  toward  the  fatal  wall,  at  the 
foot  of  which  poor  Jules  Eaism  lay  cold  m 

_ 


TW  dreadful  spectacle  alssost  frase  Fmk9s 
He  felt  a 

.1  _.-   _-::- 
jm  hisaseif  away  finosB  the  LJI  sulnssn  ,  and 


392         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"  Take  care  what  you  do  !  I  am  an  Ameri- 
can, and  if  you  murder  me,  you  will  have  to 
account  for  it !  " 

"  Grand  Dieu!  "  said  the  colonel.  "  It  is 
a  German.  What  is  he  doing  here  ?  What  is 
he  jabbering  about  1 " 

"Pardon,  mon  colonel"  said  one  of  the  sol- 
diers, respectfully  saluting.  "I  think  the 
boy  says  that  he  is  an  American." 

"Did  he  say  so?  Hum!  Living  in  the 
villa,  perhaps.  Ho  there  !  Somebody  ask  Dr. 
L' Argent  to  come  here  !  " 

Two  or  three  men  ran  to  find  the  person  in 
question. 

"L' Argent  speaks  English,"  said  the  colo- 
nel. "  That  is  what  the  lad  talks,  is  it  not  ? 
Or  is  he  a  Spanish- American  ?  He's  a  fine- 
looking  fellow." 

Frank  stood  erect,  with  the  fire  of  defiance 
in  his  eyes.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  not  to 
be  killed  without  a  struggle. 

The  minutes  seemed  long  before  the  man 
who  had  been  sent  for  arrived.  He  was  a 
small,  grizzle-pated  regimental  surgeon,  gruff 
and  unsympathetic,  and  he  looked  at  Frank 


THE  CAPTURE  BY   NIGHT.  393 

as  if  the  boy  had  stolen  something  from 
him. 

"You  can  speak  English  to  me,"  he  said, 
with  a  kind  of  disapproving  snort.  "  If  you 
are  trying  to  deceive  us,  I  can  trip  you  up, 
you  know.  I  lived  in  Australia  fourteen 
years." 

Frank's  voice  trembled,  but  he  spoke 
bravely. 

"Tell  the  officer,"  he  said,  "that  I  am  an 
American  boy,  and  that  he  can't  shoot  me 
against  a  wall  as  if  I  were  a  dog!  That's 
what  I  want  you  to  tell  him." 

"How  came  you  in  a  Communist  post  in 
the  dead  of  night,  boy?"  said  the  doctor,  in 
a  more  kindly  tone.  "Were  your  parents 
living  in  the  villa  there?" 

"  No,  sir.  My  grandfather  and  my  brother 
are  in  Paris,  and  I  am  trying  to  get  to  them." 

The  colonel  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair. 
"We  are  wasting  time,  doctor,"  he  said. 

"How  old  are  you?"  suddenly  asked  the 
doctor. 

"I  shall  be  fourteen  in  a  few  days." 

"  Hum  !  "  said  the  doctor  ;  "  that  is  not  so 


394         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

certain.  You  don't  know  the  colonel  here. 
He  is  a  terrible  man.  You  are  as  big  as  a 
French  lad  of  sixteen.  Show  me  your 
hands." 

Frank  held  them  out.  They  were  white 
and  clean.  Had  there  been  any  stains,  as  of 
powder,  or  from  the  handling  of  weapons, 
upon  them,  Frank  would  not  have  lived  to 
finish  his  explanations. 

"Come,  doctor,"  said  the  impatient  colonel. 
"  Sacre  nom  cTuri1  pipe,  will  you  hurry  ? " 

The  doctor  held  up  his  hand.  "Minute, 
man  colonel,"  he  said.  "This  is  a  non-com- 
batant. He  is  evidently  American.  Now  let 
us  find  where  he  comes  from." 

"Well,  doctor,  you  shall  be  responsible  for 
him,"  said  the  colonel.  "  Take  him  aside 
and  question  him.  And  now  get  into  line, 
you  others  !  "  he  shouted  to  a  batch  of  trem- 
bling Communists.  "Do  you  think  we  can 
waste  all  day  despatching  canaille  like  you  ? 
Now  up  to  the  wall  with  you,  and  no  more 
fuss  about  it ! " 

"Now,  boy,"  said  the  doctor,  "will  you 
tell  me  the  truth?" 


THE  CAPTURE   BY   NIGHT.  395 

"Of  course,"  said  Frank.  "Do  you  dare 
to  insinuate  that  I  would  tell  a  lie  ? " 

"Easy,  boy,  easy,"  croaked  the  doctor. 
"  You  are  not  out  of  the  bush  yet,  you  know. 
What  I  wish  to  learn  is,  when  you  came  here 
to  this  post,  and  from  what  point  ?" 

Frank  hesitated  a  moment.  To  say  that  he 
come  from  General  Dombrowski  seemed  like 
courting  death.  Yet  he  must  do  it ! 

"I  will  tell  you,"  he  said,  "if  you  will 
promise  to  listen  to  the  whole  story." 

"  Be  quick,  then !  We  shall  be  on  the 
march  again  in  twenty  minutes." 

Frank  seized  hold  of  the  doctor's  sleeve, 
and,  looking  him  straight  in  the  face,  told 
him  his  romantic  story,  from  the  time  of  his 
arrival  at  Bordeaux  in  search  of  his  father 
until  his  departure  from  Dombrowski' s  camp. 
He  would  have  told  the  episode  of  Laurette's 
rescue  from  the  gendarme  had  not  the  doctor 
clapped  one  hand  over  his  mouth,  and  said  in 
a  strangely  altered  voice  : 

"My  poor  boy,  you  have  said  enough 
already  to  get  yourself  shot  by  my  friend  the 
colonel  there.  I  believe  you  and  I  pity  you ! " 


396         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

A  tear  ran  down  the  doctor's  furrowed  cheek. 
"But  if  I  were  to  tell  the  colonel  that  you 
have  been  with  Dombrowski  for  nearly  six 
weeks,  he  would  leave  you  here  with  the 
others."  And  he  pointed  toward  the  wall. 
He  reflected  for  a  moment.  "  I  shall  tell 
the  colonel  that  your  brother  and  grandfather 
have  been  seized  by  the  Commune,  and  that 
you  had  come  out  here  to  find  this  man, — 
Raisin, — whom  you  knew,  in  the  hope  of  get- 
ting help  in  the  search  for  them.  It  is  a  little 
disjointed,  but  it  will  do,  que  didble!  The 
colonel  will  keep  you  as  a  prisoner,  and  you 
can  go  along  with  us." 

"Where?" 

"Into  Paris,  of  course.  Did  you  think 
we  were  going  on  a  picnic?  Come!" 

He  led  Frank  back  to  the  colonel.  "This 
boy  is  all  right,"  he  said.  "  He  had  strayed 
here  to  find  one  of  the  men  whom  you  have 
just  shot — a  man  who  had  known  him  and 
his  family  in  America.  The  boy's  brother 
and  grandfather  have  been  seized  in  Paris- 
no  one  can  find  them— and  this  brave  lad 
was " 


THE  CAPTURE   BY   NIGHT.  397 

"  Au  diable  with  your  long  story,  doctor  !  " 
said  the  colonel  impatiently.  "I  hold  you 
responsible  for  the  boy  until  he  is  turned 
over  to  the  American  consul  in  Paris.  I  can't 
waste  powder  and  ball  on  him.  Allans  les 
clarons  !  "  [Forward,  buglers  !] 

There  was  a  roll  of  drums,  a  clamor  of 
bugles,  and  the  soldiers  fell  into  line  and 
began  to  march  forward  with  a  swinging 
step.  The  officers  scrambled  along  on  foot, 
leading  their  horses  and  conversing  in  low- 
tones. 

Frank  was  saved. 

The  doctor  drew  him  back  a  few  yards  and 
showed  him  a  dead  Versaillist  soldier  lying 
near  the  point  at  which  the  assault  had  begun. 

"Pick  up  that  fellow's  cap,"  he  said, 
"and  put  it  on.  There,  now,  you  are  one 
of  us." 

As  Frank  and  the  doctor  passed  the  villa,  a 
solitary  torch  upright  in  the  ground  cast  a 
lurid  glare  on  Jules  Raisin's  upturned  face, 
with  the  blood  stain  upon  it. 

Frank  took  a  coat  lying  on  the  grass  and 
reverently  covered  his  face. 


398 


UNDER   THE   RED   FLAG. 


"He  was  a  good  fellow  when  lie  lived  in 
St.  Jo,"  said  the  boy  simply.  "He  had  a 
jolly  laugh.  I  can't  bear  to  see  him — that 
way." 

"Why,  that's  right,  mon  petit"  said  the 
doctor  thoughtfully. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  TOCSIN. 

IT  was  the  night  of  Sunday,  the  21st 
of  May.  The  air  was  still,  the  sky  was 
warm,  and  the  perfume  of  wild  flowers  drifted 
up  from  the  fields  and  swept  over  the  heads 
of  a  long  column  of  soldiery. 

There  was  a  superb  starlight,  and  Frank 
and  his  newly-made  friend  and  deliverer,  Dr. 
LT Argent,  were  leaning  against  the  white  wall 
of  a  cottage  and  looking  up.  "  I  wonder  if 
little  Will  and  Grandpa  Drubal  see  those 
same  stars  at  this  moment?"  said  the  boy. 

"lam  afraid  not,  my  young  friend,"  said 
the  doctor.  "  For  those  savages  have  prob- 
ably got  them  in  prison,  and  they  can't  see 
through  the  walls.  Tenez  !  here  is  a  copy  of 
the  latest  decree  of  the  Commune.  It  was 
found  upon  a  prisoner  taken  yesterday.  You 
will  see,  my  boy,  that  it  means  the  beginning 


400  UNDER  THE   11ED   FLAG. 

of  a  new  c  Reign  of  Terror,'  as  bad  as  that 
of  1793." 

Dr.  L' Argent  took  his  folding  lamp  from  his 
breast  pocket,  unfolded  the  delicate  mica 
plates,  set  up  the  wax  candle,  lighted  it,  drew 
a  paper  from  his  pocket,  and  read  aloud  a 
document  signed  by  the  infamous  "Raoul 
Rigault,  procureur  de  la  Commune,"  decree- 
ing that  a  jury  of  accusation  might  pronounce 
penalties  upon  accused  persons  at  once ;  that 
sentences  should  be  decided  by  a  majority 
vote,  and  carried  out  within  twenty-four  hours. 
"  So  you  see,  mon  ami"  concluded  the 
good  doctor,  "  that  if  your  grandfather  is  a 
hostage,  for  example,  he  may  be  tried,  sen- 
tenced, and  shot  within  a  few  hours." 

"Don't!"  said  Frank  faintly.  "Oh,  why 
don't  this  sleepy  army  get  on  its  legs  and 
storm  its  way  into  Paris !  I  shall  die  if  I 
have  to  wait  much  longer!" 

The  forces  whose  fortunes  Frank  now  shared 
had  wound  around  the  bend  in  the  Seine, 
crossed  it  by  one  of  the  few  practicable 
bridges,  and  were  encamped,  as  a  part  of  a 
great  army  of  more  than  a  hundred  thousand 


THE  TOCSIN.  401 

men,  in  the  peninsula  formed  by  the  Seine's 
ox-bow. 

On  this  beautiful  May  night  there  was  less 
clamor  from  the  forts  than  usual.  The 
serpents  still  went  hissing  through  the  sky  ; 
the  rat-tat-tat-tat  of  platoon  firing  was  heard 
now  and  then.  But  it  would  not  have  been 
hard  to  persuade  anyone,  in  presence  of  the 
unwonted,  comparative  stillness,  that  a  truce 
had  been  declared,  and  that  someone  was 
calling  off  the  fighters. 

The  army  lay  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
walls  of  Paris,  which  arose,  dim,  vast,  and 
formidable,  in  the  uncertain  light.  Here  and 
there  breaches  had  been  made  by  the  incessant 
cannonading  of  the  Versaillists,  and  it  was 
understood  than  an  assault  was  soon  to  be 
begun. 

Someone  passed  the  spot  where  the  doctor 
and  Frank  were  standing. 

"Bon  jour,  docteur!"  said  a  voice. 
"Great  news!  Dombrowski  has  been  driven 
from  his  headquarters  at  La  Muette.  They 
say  that  he  has  concentrated  everything  upon 
an  inner  line  of  defences.  We  shall  soon 

26 


402         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

have  the  walls  now,  and  then  we  will  smoke 
him  out." 

"That's  good,"  said  the  doctor.  And  he 
repeated  the  news  to  Frank. 

The  boy's  heart  gave  a  leap,  and  he  choked 
down  a  sob,  as  he  thought  of  Dombrowski's 
almost  certain  fate. 

But  he  felt  that  the  doctor's  searching  eyes 
were  upon  him,  and  so  he  remained  outwardly 
calm.  He  was  thinking  of  Laurette,  also, 
with  a  pang  of  regret.  Had  the  little  woman 
been  shot  and  left  by  the  roadside,  like  so 
many  others  whom  Frank  had  seen  in  the 
ghastly  forty-eight  hours  since  Jules  Raisin's 
outpost  had  been  taken  ? 

He  could  not  believe  that  she  was  dead. 
Something  told  him  that  he  was  to  see  Lau- 
rette again. 

Frank  took  a  walk  with  the  doctor  through 
the  vast  camp.  In  truth,  the  army  had 
merely  halted  in  a  rude  bivouac,  impatient 
for  the  assault  almost  certain  to  come  with 
day.  The  soldiers,  most  of  them  young  and 
inexperienced  in  campaigning,  were  lying  on 
the  ground,  grumbling  at  their  hard  luck. 


THE  TOCSIN.  403 

The  artillerymen  slept  beneath  their  cannon 
and  ammunition  wagons.  The  horses  were 
not  unhitched.  The  regiments  of  gendarmerie 
were  snugly  drawn  together,  and  the  men 
were  busy  polishing  their  boots,  saddles,  and 
holsters. 

When  midnight  brought  a  light  wind  blow- 
ing directly  from  Paris  the  doctor's  quick 
ear  caught  an  unaccustomed  sound.  He 
stopped  as  he  was  about  to  step  over  a  cav- 
alryman who,  wrapped  in  his  cloak,  was  lying 
by  the  roadside,  with  his  horse's  lariat  held 
tightly  in  his  hand. 

"Was  not  that  the  clang  of  a  bell, 
Monsieur  Frank?"  he  asked,  in  an  excited 
tone. 

Frank  listened.  Half  a  minute  later  the 
mellow  sound  of  a  great  brazen  bell  was 
heard,  rich,  resonant,  inspiring. 

"It  must  be  a  huge  bell  to  be  heard  so 
clearly  away  out  here,"  said  Frank. 

"I  believe  you.  Ah,  there  goes  another, 
lighter  in  tone  !  Aha  !  aha  !  I  understand  ! 
We  have  them,  Monsieur  Frank !  The  town 
is  ours — ours  !  " 


404  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

Frank  did  not  fully  understand,  and  he  said 
so.  And  as  he  turned  to  the  doctor  for  ex- 
planation, once  more  came  the  mellow  hum 
which  seemed  to  thrill  all  the  air. 

"What  does  it  mean?"  said  the  doctor, 
dancing  up  and  down,  and  flourishing  his  cap 
in  the  air.  "  It  means  that  the  tocsin  is  ring- 
ing ;  that  the  alarm  bells  are  sounding  ;  that 
the  deep  Hum-m-m  which  you  hear  is  the 
'bourdon,'  the  humble-bee  of  the  cathedral 
of  Notre  Dame  ;  that  in  ten  minutes  every 
belfry  in  Paris  will  be  sending  out  its  wildest 
music !  And  what  does  that  mean,  Monsieur 
Frank  ?  Why,  it  means  that  our  troops  are 
already  in  the  city — in  Paris  ;  and  that  signifies 
that  the  Commune  will  soon  be  no  more ! " 

Frank  began  to  understand.  The  alarm 
bells  were  ringing !  Yes,  not  only  the  great 
"bourdon"  kept  up  its  musical  booming,  but 
from  every  quarter,  from  high  hill  and  from 
crowded  plain,  from  the  cliff  of  Montmartre 
over  to  the  heights  of  Belleville,  and  down 
to  the  black  and  frowning  towers  of  St. 
Eustache,  and  away  to  the  graceful  spires 
of  St.  Germain  des  Pres,  and  round  again 


THE  TOCSIN.  405 

to  the  belfry  of  St.  Germain  1'Auxerrois, 
whence  was  sounded  the  signal  for  the  mas- 
sacre of  St.  Bartholomew,  and  so  on  and  on 
across  the  reverberating  spaces  to  the  cathe- 
dral towers,  and  to  St.  Etienne  du  Mont  and 
a  host  of  blackened  ancient  churches  and 
convents  in  the  Latin  quarter,  rang  and 
ran  and  swam  and  leaped  and  rioted  the 
rich  music  of  the  alarm  bells! 

Paris  was  awake,  and  had  rushed  to  arms 
to  repel  the  as  yet  invisible  enemy ! 

At  that  moment  a  little  boy,  tossing  on 
his  hard  pallet  in  the  gloomy  and  crowded 
hall  of  La  Grande  Roquette  prison,  sat  up 
and  tugged  at  his  sleeping  grandfather's 
arm. 

After  much  effort  he  succeeded  in  awaken- 
ing the  good  old  man,  who  was  worn  out  with 
watching  and  worrying,  and  who  had  been 
sleeping  as  he  used  to  sleep  on  the  frontier 
after  days  of  anxious  vigil. 

"What  is  it,  Will?"  said  Grandpa 
Drubal  in  a  low  voice,  and  drawing  the 
little  figure  to  his  broad  breast. 


406  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

"What  are  all  the  bells  ringing  for, 
grandpa?"  said  Will. 

Grandpa  Drubal  was  thoroughly  aroused  in 
an  instant.  He  sat  up  and  listened  intently. 

He  knew  that  it  was  an  alarm,  but  he  could 
form  no  idea  of  its  importance.  No  news 
came  to  them  unless  a  prisoner  brought  it,  and 
there  had  been  no  fresh  arrivals  for  two  days. 

"  I  reckon  there  must  be  afire  somewhere, 
Will,"  he  answered,  turning  his  face  away, 
so  that  the  boy  might  not  see  how  his  lips 
trembled.  For  the  thought  suddenly  came  to 
him  that  there  might  be  an  attempt  to  rescue 
the  prisoners,  and  in  that  case  he  knew 
that  their  ferocious  guards  would  massacre 
them  all. 

"Ho!  that  isn't  a  fire!"  said  Will,  in 
his  clear,  silvery  tones;  "it's  more  than  that, 
I'll  bet!  Hear  that  great  big  bell,  grandpa, 
that  keeps  saying,  b-r-r-oum !  b-r-r-oum ! 
And  then  those  little  ones  that  go  Tingle, 
tangle,  tangle-ting,  all  the  time  !  Oh,  dear, 
grandpa,  why  don't  they  let  us  out,  so  that  we 
can  see  something  ?  I'm  sure  we  haven't  done 
anything  to  them." 


TUB  TOCSIN.  407 

Grandpa  Drubal  felt  a  tear  stealing  down 
his  withered  cheek. 

"Won't  you  ask  them  to  let  us  out, 
grandpa  ? "  pleaded  tjie  small  voice.  "  I  want 
to  go  and  find  Frankie?  I  know  I  can  find 
him  if  they  will  only  let  me  out.  Oh,  I'm  so 
thirsty!" 

"Grandpa  '11  get  you  a  drink  of  water, 
Will.  Now,  you  mustn't  talk,  or  you'll  wake 
everybody  up." 

"Ho!  the  bells  will  do  that  fast  enough," 
said  the  boy,  and  he  pointed  to  the  long  line 
of  mattresses  on  the  floor.  Grandpa  Drubal 
saw  that  all  the  prisoners  were  awaking  and 
listening  intently.  An  old  priest  near  him 
was  seated  with  his  head  bowed  forward, 
and  his  aged  lips  were  murmuring  a  prayer. 

With  a  strange  feeling  that  the  turning 
point  in  their  destiny  was  at  hand,  Grandpa 
Drubal  crawled  between  the  mattresses  to  the 
table,  got  Will  a  glass  of  water,  and  was  just 
sinking  back  on  his  rude  pillow  when  he  felt 
a  cold  hand  laid  upon  his  bare  arm. 

He  sprang  up  and  saw  Citizeness  Marcelle's 
lean  and  haggard  face  close  to  his. 


403         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

"Sh-h!  Silence!"  she  whispered.  "The 
tocsin  is  sounding.  The  supreme  hour  is  at 
hand !  Courage !  We  shall  soon  be  free  or 
dead!" 

"The  tocsin?"  said  Grandpa  Drubal. 
"What  is  that?" 

"  It  is  the  general  alarm  !  It  means  that  the 
enemy  is  within  the  walls  of  Paris!  Don't 
you  hear  all  the  bells  ringing  together? 
The  tocsin  !  By  this  time  to-morrow  our  fate 
will  be  decided.  But  we  will  save  the  child, 
citizen,  whatever  happens ;  he  must  not  die !  " 

"We  are  in  God's  hands,"  whispered 
Grandpa  Drubal.  "Whatever  happens,  Mar- 
celle,  you  have  done  your  duty.  Your  care 
has  kept  the  boy  alive !  Heaven  bless  you 
for  it!" 

"What  are  you  whispering  about,  Grandpa 
Drubal?"  cried  Will  fretfully.  "You  and 
Marcelle  are  hiding  something  from  me,  I 
know." 

But  Marcelle  had  crawled  away  again  to 
her  pallet,  and  presently  the  little  boy  pil- 
lowed his  head  upon  Grandpa  Drubal' s  breast 
and  fell  into  a  dreamless  slumber. 


THE  TOCSIN.  409 

And  by  and  by  Grandpa  Drnbal,  repeating 
that  verse  which  he  had  so  often  said  in  child- 
hood, "Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace 
whose  mind  is  stayed  on  Thee,"  himself  lapsed 
into  slumber,  nor  did  he  awake  until  the  rays 
of  morning  sunshine  were  streaming  through 
the  narrow  grated  windows. 

The  booming  of  cannon  not  far  away  was 
the  first  sound  that  he  heard. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

FRANK  MAKES  MANY  DISCOVERIES. 

"TT^RANK  felt  a  wild,  mad  desire  for  action 
-L  taking  possession  of  his  soul  at  early 
dawn  of  that  beautiful  Monday  morning  in 
May,  when  the  great  army  with  which  he  had 
been  obliged  to  cast  his  fortunes  arose  silently 
and  prepared  itself  for  the  march. 

The  order  had  been  passed  along  the  lines 
to  move  without  bugles,  and  to  give  as  little 
warning  as  possible  to  the  enemy  of  the 
forces  which  Versailles  was  launching  forward 
upon  it. 

The  birds  were  twittering  deliciously  in  the 
trees,  and  a  blue,  transparent  vapor  arose 
from  the  earth,  enveloping  everything  in  an 
exquisite  glamour,  as  Frank  and  Dr.  L' Argent 
made  a  hasty  toilet  in  the  kitchen  of  a 
ruined  villa  and  prepared  to  take  their  places 
in  the  moving  column. 


FRANK   MAKES   MANY   DISCOVERIES.       411 

Frank  was  hungry  and  feverish,  but  he  felt 
the  inspiration  of  that  divine  morning  and  of 
his  youth,  and  he  could  hardly  restrain  him- 
self. He  wished  to  rush  away  through  the 
fields  and  the  gardens  to  the  great  breach  in 
the  walls,  and  then  on  and  on  through  Paris 
until  he  had  found  his  brother  and  dear  old 
Grandpa  Drubal. 

But  then  arose  in  his  mind  the  panorama  of 
the  horrors  through  which  he  had  passed  dur- 
ing the  long  period  of  separation  ;  the  hair- 
breadth escapes  which  he  had  had  when  in 
Dombrowski's  camp,  the  terror  of  the  attack 
on  the  villa  by  night ;  the  slaughter  of  Jules 
Raisin,  the  disappearance  of  Laurette.  What 
terrible  things  might  he  not  expect  to  see  and 
hear,  perhaps,  in  the  day  which  had  just 
dawned  ?  Would  he  ever  see  his  home— his 
beloved  ones  again? 

"  You  are  very  pale,  mon  ami"  said  Dr. 
L' Argent,  giving  Frank  a  cheery  hug,  "and  I 
am  going  to  prescribe  for  you.  Come  along ! " 
So  they  went  to  the  wagons,  and  Frank  was 
soon  served  with  a  steaming  bowl  of  soup  and 
a  huge  piece  of  good  bread.  "Get  that  in," 


412         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

said  the  doctor.  "  You'll  need  all  your 
strength  to-day." 

Then  he  gave  Frank  a  tiny  glass  of  cordial, 
thick,  green,  aromatic,  which  he  carried  in  a 
small,  ancient  leather  flask,  and  got  for  him 
some  food  to  put  in  his  pockets. 

"Don't  get  separated  from  us  even  for  a 
moment,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Remember  that 
all  the  fighting  whiQh  you  have  seen  is  as 
child's  play  to  what  is  to  come  in  the  streets, 
out  yonder." 

He  gave  Frank  a  revolver  and  some  car- 
tridges, and  wrote  a  few  lines  on  his  own  card 
stating  who  Frank  was,  and  his  mission  in 
accompanying  the  army.  "That  will  save 
you,  I  think,"  said  the  good  doctor,  "if  you 
get  into  trouble  with  any  of  our  men." 

And  now  the  troops  were  passing  rapidly 
forward,  and  Frank  and  the  doctor  fell  into 
their  places.  When  they  came  to  the  massive 
walls  of  Paris,  looking  anything  but  frowning 
and  forbidding  as  they  lay  bathed  in  the 
golden  light  of  the  morning,  Frank  ran  up  to 
the  top  of  one  of  them,  after  he  had  passed 
in  with  the  troops  on  the  bridge  over  the  deep 


FRANK   MAKES   MANY   DISCOVERIES.       413 

moat,  and  stood  spellbound,  watching  the 
great  line  of  men  moving  like  a  colossal  ser- 
pent along  the  dusty  highway,  in  through  the 
huge  gate,  and  down  past  a  few  humble  build- 
ings toward  the  broad  avenue  where  lighting, 
judging  from  the  smart  cannonade,  was 
already  very  active. 

"  Come  down,  Frank  !  "  shouted  the  doctor  ; 
"  you  will  be  getting  yourself  arrested  as  a 
spy  !"  and  the  boy  bounded  down  and  went 
forward  as  lightly  as  if  he  had  been  at  the 
beginning  of  a  hunting  excursion  in  the  plains 
back  of  St.  Jo. 

Presently  the  column  was  ordered  to  remain 
quiet  for  several  hours,  while  movements  were 
executed  in  front.  Toward  eleven  o'clock  the 
doctor  took  Frank  with  him  to  "breakfast" — 
the  French  always  take  their  first  substantial 
meal  of  the  day  between  eleven  and  one — with 
some  officers  who  had  found  a  small  restaurant 
just  within  the  inner  lines  of  the  defence 
which  the  Communists  had  prepared,  and 
which  they  had  been  compelled  to  abandon. 

When  they  came  out  from  breakfast,  Frank 
stumbled  full  into  the  arms  of  a  dusty  form 


414         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

approaching  rapidly,  and  found  himself  face 
to  face  with — 

"Sny!" 

The  two  youths  started  back  in  genuine 
amazement.  But  a  joyful  shout  of  recognition 
went  up  from  both  at  the  same  instant. 
Frank  held  out  his  hand,  which  Sny  grasped 
with  genuine  heartiness  and  with  a  twinkle  of 
joy  in  the  gray  eyes. 

"I  want  to  take  tight  hold  of  you,  Sny," 
said  Frank.  "This  time  I  should  like  to 
make  sure  that  you're  not  a  ghost.  The  last 
time  I  saw  you,  even  shouting  had  no  effect  on 
you.  Will  you  just  explain  yourself  ? " 

Sny  looked  at  him  ;  then  an  inquiring  look 
came  into  his  face. 

"  Why,  don't  you  remember?"  said  Frank. 
"Out  at  the  fortifications,  late  one  night 
about  six  weeks  ago,  you  crossed  the  road 
right  in  front  of  me  !  I  called  out  to  you. 
You  went  along  just  as  they  say  ghosts  do, 
straddled  a  hedge,  and  disappeared." 

"  Oh,  I  sa\v  you  all  right !  "  said  Sny,  with- 
out hesitation.  "  I  could  not  exactly  explain 
how  it  was  that  you  were  there  with  a  lot  of 


FRANK   MAKES   MANY   DISCOVERIES.       415 

Communists,  leading  a  horse.  But  I  was 
pretty  well  convinced  of  one  thing ;  that  was, 
if  I  was  caught  it  was  '  good-night,'  and  '  all- 
night  '  with  me.  So  I  made  up  my  mind  that 
on  that  particular  occasion  you  and  me  wasn't 
going  to  stop  and  have  any  chat.  And  I  just 
skipped  the  ranch."  Here  Sny  halted,  as  if 
waiting  for  Frank  to  offer  some  explanation 
of  his  equally  curious  change  of  movements. 

"  But  where  did  you  go,  Sny  ?"  Frank  said 
breathlessly.  "Haven't  you  been  in  Paris 
since?  Haven't  you  heard  about  Grandpa 
Drubal  and  my  little  brother,  how  they  have 
disappeared,  and  that  I  am  going  back  now  to 
try  and  hunt  them  up ;  that  I  should  have 
been  left  alone  among  strangers  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  General  Dombrowski,  who  got  me  out 
of  trouble  and  took  me  with  him  ;  didn't  you 
know  all  that?" 

While  Frank  was  talking,  Sny's  face  grad- 
ually grew  paler  and  paler.  "  Why,  Frank," 
he  said,  "you  aint  joking,  are  you?  I 
haven't  been  near  Paris.  The  truth  might  as 
well  be  out  now,  I  suppose.  I  had  to  bolt  for 
the  Versailles  lines,  as  the  Communists  were 


416         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

getting  pretty  hot  after  me.  You  see  my 
pigeons  had  been  kind  of  useful  to  those  fel- 
lows out  in  Versailles,  and  if  I  hadn't  turned 
and  doubled  a  little  of tener  than  the  fox  does 
when  the  hounds  are  after  him,  you  never 
would  have  seen  me  again,  I  reckon." 

Frank  drew  a  long  breath.  He  understood 
now  the  secret  of  Sny's  pigeons;  why  the 
Communist  spies  had  been  upon  his  trail;  why 
the  little  hunchback  of  the  Commission  of 
Public  Safety  had  been  wandering  about 
Montmartre.  In  a  few  sentences  he  told  Sny 
all  about  that  small  man,  but  he  found  that 
Sny  was  better  informed  concerning  him  than 
he  was. 

Sny's  voice  trembled  as  he  said :  "  Look 
here,  Prank  :  I  wouldn'  t  wonder  if  my  poor 
birds  and  myself  were  the  means  of  getting 
your  grandfather  and  your  little  brother  into 
trouble.  You  see,  when  they  could  not  get 
me,  perhaps  they  took  the  General,  just  to 
see  if  he  had  not  some  connection  with  the 
affair.  And  they  are  foolish  enough  to  do 
anything.  And  you  say  they  have  been 
missing " 


FRANK   MAKES   MANY   DISCOVERIES.       417 

**  It  must  be  six  weeks  now,"  said  Frank 
tearfully,  but  with  a  rising  resolution  in  his 
voice  ;  for  what  Sny  had  just  said  seemed  to 
throw  some  light  upon  the  mysterious  disap- 
pearance. Perhaps  after  all  they  were  the  vic- 
tims of  a  ridiculous  error  on  the  part  of  the 
little  hunchback  or  some  other  jack-in-office, 
and  now  that  the  troops  had  come  in  could 
be  readily  found  and  released,  wherever  they 
were.  It  seemed  to  give  him  a  gleam  of  hope, 
and  so  he  told  Sny,  while  he  hastened  to  add  : 
"You  know,  Sny,  I  would  not  blame  you  if 
what  you  say  is  true  ;  but  it  is  all  so  horrible, 
— so  like  a  dream,  that  it  has  almost  worn  me 
out.  I  have  come  back  now  to  find  them 
or  to  die." 

Sny  put  his  great  hand  on  Frank's  shoulder. 
"  If  they  are  in  this  town,"  he  said,  "  we  have 

>t  to  find  them.  I  will  be  with  you  in  the 
lunt,  and  I  don't  get  off  the  trail  once  I  am 
it.  We  begin  now,  and  we  don't  stop  until 
find  them.  I  reckon  that's  the  right 

itch  word." 

Frank  grasped  the  great  hand,  and  seemed 
to  feel  a  new  courage  coming  to  him. 

27 


418         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Just  then  he  saw  Dr.  L' Argent  approaching, 
and  noticing  that  Sny  stood  firm,  and  seemed 
to  feel  no  fear  of  any  of  the  officers,  he 
said:  "Are  you  all  right  with  the  troops? 
If  not,  this  man  here  has  saved  my  life  once, 
and  he  keeps  watch  over  me.  I  presume  he 
will  welcome  you  as  a  friend." 

"I  am  all  right  here,"  said  Sny,  with  a 
smile.  "  I  have  got  my  pockets  full  of  passes 
from  headquarters  at  Versailles.  They  are 
rather  fond  of  me  out  there,  for  I  helped  them 
a  good  deal,  me  and  my  birds." 

"By  the  way,  what  became  of  the  birds, 
Sny?"  said  Prank. 

Sny  put  his  hand  in  the  breast  of  his  old 
overcoat  which  still  clung  about  him,  and 
drew  forth  one  wily  gray  head  with  glossy 
plumage  and  glittering  eyes.  The  bird 
actually  seemed  to  know  Frank,  and  the  boy 
fancied  that  he  gave  him  a  friendly  wink. 

"Here  is  the  old  boss  of  all,"  said  Sny. 
"He  has  been  back  and  forth,  between  Paris 
and  Versailles,  so  often  that  he  knows  every 
acre  of  land  between  the  two  places  by 
now.  The  Commune  will  never  know  the 


FRANK  MAKES   MANY   DISCOVERIES.       419 

full  amount  of  mischief  that  we  did  its 
cause." 

41  What  is  this?  What  is  this?"  said  Dr. 
IT  Argent,  coming  up  in  his  cheery  way,  eye- 
ing Sny  rather  suspiciously,  and  peering  cu- 
riously at  the  bird. 

Sny  popped  the  veteran  pigeon  back  into 
obscurity,  and  made  quite  a  flourishing  mili- 
tary salute,  while  Frank  hastened  to  explain 
who  and  what  the  singular  figure  was.  Dr. 
L' Argent  burst  into  a  loud  laugh.  "Oh, 
yes!"  he  said,  "I  have  heard  of  this  young 
man.  He  is  quite  the  talk  of  the  day.  He 
must  have  had  as  many  lives  as  a  cat  and  as 
agile  feet  to  fall  on,  or  he  would  have  been 
captured  by  the  Commune  long  ago.  Why, 
young  man,  they  ought  to  have  given  you  a 
better  outfit  than  that,  after  all  your 
services." 

"Well,  doctor,"  said  Sny  modestly,  "I 
know  they  say  that  '  tine  feathers  make  fine 
birds,'  but  my  birds  are  all  right  as  to  feath- 
ers, and  I  thought  I  would  wait  a  little  before 
I  undertook  to  set  np  in  opposition  to  them." 

"Eh  bienf  my  lad,"   said  Dr.  L' Argent, 


420         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"  you  can  flatter  yourself  that  you  served  a 
good  cause,  and  that  you  did  your  best  with 
your  Yankee  ingenuity  to  put  down  the  worst 
set  of  brigands  that  ever  infested  Europe.  If 
I  can  be  of  any  use  to  you  while  we  are  polish- 
ing off  the  rascals,  just  count  on  me." 

"Thank  you,  doctor,"  said  Sny,  saluting 
again.  "  I  am  all  right.  I  want  to  help  this 
young  man  to  find  his  folks.  Then  I  guess  I 
shall  turn  my  head  toward  the  *  land  of  the 
free  and  the  home  of  the  brave.'  But  I  reckon 
the  first  thing  we  have  to  do  is  to  see  this 
skirmish  through,  and  I  believe  it  will  be  an 
uncommon  lively  one." 

"  I  wager  you  it  will,  my  lad,"  said  the  doc- 
tor, rolling  his  Australian  English  upon  his 
tongue  as  if  he  liked  the  sound  of  it. 

Crash  !  The  struggle  had  begun  in  earnest 
now.  Frank's  blood  was  up,  and  he  was  re- 
gardless of  consequences. 

He  had  twice  been  shot  at  from  the  windows 
of  houses.  A  bullet  had  gone  through  his 
coat  sleeve,  but  had  not  wounded  him.  An- 
other had  cut  off  a  lock  of  hair  which  hung 


FRANK   MAKES   MANY  DISCOVERIES.       421 

loosely  upon  his  forehead,  while  he  was 
waving  his  cap  to  call  Dr.  L' Argent  to  attend 
some  wounded  men. 

He  was  working  with  fevered  energy  beside 
the  good  doctor,  who  cared  as  little  for  bullets 
as  for  flies.  "Bah  !  "  he  said,  "a  bullet  is  a 
prejudice.  If  you  do  not  believe  in  it,  it  does 
not  exist  for  you." 

But  whenever  Frank  stopped  to  think,  he 
realized  that  the  bullets  were  very  tangible  in- 
deed, and  that  they  seemed  to  come  from 
every  direction,  while  the  column  of  soldiery 
was  making  its  way  slowly  down  the  vast 
and  splendid  Boulevard  Malesherbes,  and 
everywhere  encountering  a  furious  resistance. 

Barricades  arose  as  by  magic,  and  were 
manned  by  resolute  men,  and  women,  too. 
The  paving  stones  of  the  street  were  piled  up 
six  feet  high  ;  two  rows  of  loopholes  were  ar- 
ranged ;  and  at  the  angles,  small  cannon  were 
stationed. 

The  column  of  Versaillists  approached  one 
of  these  barricades,  and  threw  out  its  tirail- 
leurs, or  sharpshooters,  who  kept  moving 
stealthily  toward  the  pile  of  stones.  Then 


422  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

came  a  flash  from  two  rows  of  loopholes,  a 
furious  barking  from  the  cannon,  and  the 
white  street  was  stained  with  the  blood  of  one, 
two,  or  three  tirailleurs. 

This  was  repeated  over  and  over,  the  column 
moving  on  and  up,  finally  reaching  and  charg- 
ing the  barricade,  killing  all  who  resisted, 
rifling  the  knapsacks  of  the  dead,  and  some- 
times finishing  up  wounded  men  who  begged 
for  mercy.*  It  was  slow,  merciless,  heartless, 
terrible  work. 

Frank's  heart  grew  steeled  to  the  spectacle 
of  death,  and  he  consoled  himself  by  thinking 
of  his  aim.  If  his  grandfather  and  his 
brother  were  in  prison,  said  Dr.  L' Argent, 
nothing  could  be  heard  of  them  until  the  cen- 
tre of  the  city  was  reached  by  the  troops  and 
the  Commune  was  crushed. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  of  Monday  when 
the  column,  established  just  in  front  of  the 
huge  church  of  St.  Augustin,  began  to  see 
its  way  clear  to  descending  the  boulevard  rap- 

*  After  the  entry  of  the  regular  troops,  quarter  was  some- 
times given  to  Communist  prisoners,  but  three-fourths  of  them 
were  afterward  executed. 


FRANK   MAKES   MANY  DISCOVERIES.       423 

idly  toward  the  Madeleine.  Its  progress  had 
been  checked  by  a  furious  fire  from  the  last 
mentioned  famous  church,  directly  across  the 
Boulevard  Malesherbes. 

Beyond  it,  to  left  and  right,  were  labyrinths 
of  narrow  streets  filled  with  barricades.  The 
Communists  realized  that,  if  this  position  were 
taken  and  the  strong  incoming  column  of 
Versailles  troops  were  left  free  to  pour 
through  to  the  central  boulevards  and  the 
Place  Vendome,  their  cause  would  have  re- 
ceived a  mortal  blow.  So  they  fought  with 
grim  despair. 

But  the  Versaillists  fired  solid  cannon  shot 
at  the  barricade  on  the  boulevard,  and  demol- 
ished it  slowly  and  steadily.  Little  by  little 
its  defending  force  disappeared,  until  but  two 
women  were  left,  loading  and  firing  a  small 
jix-pounder  on  old-fashioned  wheels.  At  last 

well-directed  shot  knocked  the  six-pounder 
ipside  down,  and  killed  one  of  the  women, 
thereupon  the  other  disappeared  to  the  left, 
md  the  column  rushed  down,  the  soldiers 

louting  and  firing. 

As  Frank  hurried   along  with   the  doctor, 


424         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

who  was  saying  that  it  was  time  to  hunt 
quarters  for  the  night,  the  strange,  wild  scene 
was  vividly  impressed  on  his  mind.  He  noted 
the  high,  yellowish-white  stone  houses,  with 
their  enormously  thick  walls,  cosey  iron  bal- 
conies, on  which  were  long  rows  of  flower  pots 
filled  with  plants,  and  the  great  central  doors 
which  led  into  the  courtyards  with  their 
polished  stone  pavements.  How  odd  and 
foreign  all  this  was  1 

And  how  deathly  silent  were  those  spacious 
houses,  from  which  life  and  light  had  gone 
away  !  In  the  street  with  its  vast  sidewalks, 
the  double  rows  of  trees  and  military  lines  of 
painted  Jciosques,  its  green-painted  benches, 
and  its  general  air  of  delightful  repose  the 
dead  soldiers  were  piled  here  and  there.  One 
— a  mere  youth — was  standing  against  a  syca- 
more tree  in  front  of  which  he  had  been  shot. 
His  coat  had  caught  upon  a  nail  which  some 
boy  had  driven  into  the  tree,  and  there  he 
stood,  dead,  and  glaring  with  stony  eyes  upon 
the  Madeleine  colonnade,  not  far  away. 

The  column  halted  suddenly.  Night  was 
coming  on.  Frank  observed  with  surprise 


FRANK   MAKES   MANY   DISCOVERIES.       425 

that  a  barricade  was  rising  a  hundred  yards  to 
the  rear  of  the  old  one.  The  sharpshooters 
were  busy,  but  the  troops  were  getting  quar- 
tered in  the  deserted  houses,  and  had  received 
orders  to  get  into  the  upper  stories  as  quickly 
as  possible.  From  these  points  they  might 
control  some  of  the  barricades. 

Frank  and  the  doctor  and  Sny  were  billeted, 
late  in  the  evening,  in  a  great  mansion  which 
formed  an  "ilot"  or  islet  in  the  Parisian 
ocean,  fronting  on  four  streets. 

The  entrance  was  on  the  Boulevard  Males- 
herbes,  and  Frank  and  his  companions  were 
not  sorry  when  they  had  picked  their  way 
over  some  men  of  the  artillery  who  were 
already  sound  asleep  on  the  pavement,  and 
had  got  into  the  great  house  and  shut  the 
ponderous  street  door. 

In  the  porter's  lodge  the  doctor  found  three 
officers  whom  he  knew,  drinking  a  bottle  of 
red  wine  and  playing  at  cards.  "The  house 
appears  deserted,"  they  said.  "Make  your 
way  upstairs,  and  if  you  find  an  apartment 
vacant,  take  it.  But  don't  show  any  light  at 
a  window  opening  on  the  street." 


426         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

They  had  reached  the  sixth  floor  of  the 
mansion  before  they  found  any  signs  of  life. 
Houses  like  this  one  are  usually  built  with 
two  very  large  suites  of  rooms,  or  apparte- 
ments,  on  each  floor.  The  door  opens  from 
the  landing  into  a  handsome  antechamber, 
from  which  there  is  access  to  the  drawing- 
room,  and  then,  by  corridors,  to  the  more 
private  chambers,  arranged  en  suite  along 
the  front,  so  that  each  has  abundant  air  and 
light. 

"Here  is  a  door  open,  Frank,'1  said  the 
doctor.  "  B-r-r-r  !  I  feel  as  hungry  as  I  ever 
did  on  the  Australian  plains.  These  people 
here  must  give  us  food  and  wine,  or  we  shall 
become  very  cross,  eh,  Frank,  mon  ami! 
Ring  the  bell,  Frank,  mon  brave!" 

As  Frank's  hand  touched  the  bell-rope 
his  quick  ears  caught  the  sound  of  voices 
excitedly  talking  in  English.  His  heart 
made  a  strange  leap  which  he  could  not 
explain. 

He  gave  the  satin-shrouded  rope  a  sharp 
pull.  There  was  a  silvery  peal,  then  a  sound 
of  low  voices  consulting  together,  and  finally 


FRANK   MAKES   MANY   DISCOVERIES.       427 

steps  came  toward  the  door.    It  swung  farther 
open,  and  a  tall  man  entered. 

Frank  was  standing  face  to  face  with  his 
own  father — the  father  for  whom  he  had  so 
long  sought  in  vain! 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

ALMON  CORNERS  REPENTS. 

RANK  never  remembered  exactly  what 
J-  took  place  after  that  one  supreme  mo- 
ment when  he  saw  the  half-glad,  half-terrified 
look  of  recognition  in  his  father's  eyes. 

But  he  gradually  collected  his  senses  when 
he  found  himself  lying  on  a  luxurious  sofa  in 
a  handsomely  furnished  bedroom,  which  was 
filled  with  the  subtle  odor  of  some  strange 
perfume,  mingled  strongly  with  the  incense  of 
Turkish  tobacco. 

He  had  found  his  father,  and  now  here  he 
was,  alone  and  ill  in  this  darkened  room. 
What  did  it  mean?  Why  did  not  someone 
come  to  him  ? 

He  tried  to  rise,  but  his  head  ached  wofully, 
and  his  limbs  felt  as  if  he  had  been  beaten. 
With  a  groan  he  sank  back  among  the 
cushions  and  listened  to  the  "swish,  puish" 
of  the  bullets  which  went  rushing  through  the 


ALMON  CORNERS  REPENTS.       429 

air  on  their  mission  of  murder ;  and  to  the 
melancholy  music  of  a  bugle  wildly  blown  by 
some  desperate  soldier  behind  an  unseen  barri- 
cade. Why  was  the  battle  still  raging? 
Where  was  Dr.  IT  Argent  ?  Had  the  father 
whom  he  had  just  found  cast  him  off?  A 
hundred  questions  arose  and  tortured  him. 

"I  must  know  what  is  going  on!"  cried 
Frank,  and,  making  a  desperate  effort,  he 
arose  to  his  feet,  although  a  thousand  bees 
seemed  buzzing  in  his  ears. 

Just  then  a  door  opened,  and  a  flood  of  light 
streamed  into  the  apartment.  Frank  saw 
that  the  windows  of  his  room  were  darkened 
with  rich  tapestries,  and  that  the  liveried 
servant  who  brought  in  the  huge  antique  lamp 
was  careful  not  to  take  it  too  near  the 
window. 

"Take  care,  take  care,  you  stuffed  eel!" 
shouted  Dr.  IT  Argent,  who  was  just  behind 
the  servant,  "If  you  let  the  rascals  have  as 
much  as  a  tiny  gleam,  we  shall  be  having  their 
bullets  in  here  all  night  long.  And,  for  my 
part,  I  want  a  decent  night's  rest.  My  eyes 
feel  as  if  they  were  filled  with  red-hot  sealing- 


430         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

wax,  and  my  legs  as  if  someone  had  been 
sticking  hot  needles  in  them.  Ah,  Frank  ! 
mon  ami!  Awake,  riest-ce  pas?  Ah,  the 
doctor's  little  sleeping  draught  did  you  good, 
eh  ?  And  I  say,  my  boy,  what  an  adventure ! 
Hunting  a  lodging  in  war  time  and  finding 
a  father,  hey?  You  are  a  veritable  hero  of 
romance  in  real  life.  Here,  drink  this  cor- 
dial ! "  cried  the  good  doctor,  finding  a  res- 
torative in  his  pocket  case,  "and  then  you 
may  perhaps  see  your  papa.  But  no  excite- 
ment !  Remember,  I  am  your  physician." 

"What  time  is  it?"  asked  Frank  wearily. 

"My  dear  boy,  it  is  exactly  three  hours  and 
two  minutes  since  you  did  me  the  honor  to 
faint  in  my  arms,  being  constrained  to  such 
a  weakness,  I  suppose,  by  the  sudden  vision 
of  the  paternal  ancestor  whom  you  least  ex- 
pected to  see.  Ah,  here  he  comes  at  lust ! 
I  am  going  downstairs  to  take  a  look  at  the 
situation,  and  I  leave  you  to  renew  your 
acquaintance  with  monsieur,  your  papa.  Au 
revoir  !  " 

And  Dr.  L' Argent  tripped  away  before 
Frank  could  stop  him. 


ALMON  CORNERS   REPENTS.  431 

The  portieres  at  the  door  parted,  and 
Frank's  father  stepped  in.  He  was  richly 
and  fashionably  dressed ;  his  mustache  was 
waxed  and  curled  upward  at  the  ends  ;  his 
slender  white  hands  were  adorned  with  costly 
rings  ;  his  eyes  were  brilliant,  but  hard  and 
almost  cruel  in  their  stare.  Frank  could  see 
that  his  father  held  his  hands  clenched  as  if 
he  were  suffering  from  some  great  emotion. 

He  stretched  out  his  arms  to  his  father,  but 
said  not  a  word.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if,  when 
he  ventured  to  speak,  the  whole  scene — the 
rich  room,  the  beloved  father,  all — would  dis- 
appear by  enchantment,  as  he  almost  feared 
that  they  had  been  brought  to  him. 

u  My  poor  boy  !  "  said  Almon  Corners,  com- 
ing hastily  forward  and  throwing  himself  on 
his  knees  beside  Frank,  "to  think  that  I 
should  find  you,  or  that  you  should  find  me — 
like  this.  To  think  that  you  should  have  been 
hunting  for  me,  and  should  have  been  thrust 
into  such  dreadful  adventures  in  this  horrible 
war  time!  Oh,  Frank!  Frank!  can  you 
ever  forgive  me  for  running  away .  Say  that 
you  can,  that  you  will !  " 


432         UNDEK  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"There  is  nothing  to  forgive,  father,"  said 
Frank,  throwing  his  arms  about  Alinon 
Corners'  neck,  and  drawing  the  face  to  his 
own.  "  You  knew  best  what  you  had  to  do. 
Only — it  made  Grandpa  Drubal  suffer  so." 

Almon  Corners  was  silent  for  a  moment. 
Then  he  said  in  a  broken  voice:  "And  how 
did  you  manage  to  recognize  me  ?  Am  I  not 
— much  changed  ? " 

"  I  knew  you  instantly,  papa,  because  you 
are  just  like  the  picture  which  we  have 
home— you  know— the  one  taken  in  St.  Loui 
I  should  have  known  you  anywhere." 

"My  brave  boy  !  To  cross  seas  and  throi 
yourself  into  these  terrible  dangers,  and  al 
for  me ! " 

He  groaned  aloud,  and  hid  his  face  in 
hands. 

At  this  moment  a  second  servant,  more 
richly  dressed  than  the  one  who  had  brought 
in  the  lamp,  came  in  with  a  silver  salver 
loaded  with  dainty  food,  and  placed  it  upon 
a  low  table  close  beside  Frank's  sofa.  Then 
he  made  a  graceful  bow  and  retired. 

The  aroma  of  a  splendid  cup  of  tea,  and  of 


ALMON  CORNERS  REPENTS.       433 

a  superb  bit  of  roast  chicken,  tempted  poor 
Frank.  He  sat  up  and  looked  hungrily  at  the 
display  on  the  little  table. 

"Eat,  my  son;  do  eat  something,"  said 
Almon  Corners  ;  "  and  if  you  could  but  know 
how  glad  my  heart  is  at  sight  of  you ! " 
Then  a  shadow  swept  across  his  face.  "But 
to  think  that  I  should  have  to  welcome  you  to 
a  place  like  this  !" 

He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and 
shrank  down  into  a  corner. 

Frank  had  taken  up  the  cup  of  tea  and  was 
raising  it  to  his  lips.  He  set  it  hastily  down 
and  pushed  the  little  table  away. 

"Why,  father,  what's  wrong?"  he  said, 
sitting  up  and  putting  his  hand  upon  Almon 
Corners'  shoulder.  "  Have  we  no  right  to  stay 
here?  Is  it  not  a  proper  place  to  come  to? 
What  do  you  mean?" 

Almon  Corners  sat  up  and  faced  his  son 
desperately.  "It  is  not  so  bad  as  you  may 
think,  Frank,  I  assure  you,"  he  said  in  dull, 
constrained  tones.  "  But  I  got  caught  into  it 
and  couldn't  get  out.  Then  came  the  siege, 
and  we  lived  in  clover  here  all  that  winter, 


434        UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

which  was  so  dreadful  for  others.  And  then 
the  Commune  arrived,  and  we  did  not  dare  to 
try  to  escape,  for  we  were  watched.  I  swear 
to  you,  Frank,  I  meant  to  give  the  thing  up 
and  return  home  in  the  spring— I  give  you  my 
word " 

Frank  sprang  to  his  feet.  He  seemed  to 
have  regained  his  strength. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  father,"  he  cried, 
" explain  yourself  !  What  is  wrong?  Don't 
keep  me  in  suspense!" 

"Nothing,  my  dear  boy,"  said  the  unhappy 
man,  who  was  now  livid  with  excitement,  and 
whose  eyes  seemed  to  send  forth  streams  of 
light;  "nothing,  except  that  this  is  the 
famous  Cercle  Occidental— the  Occidental 
Club — a  gambling  club,  my  son,  and  that 
I  have  been  one  of  the  most  active  workers  in 
it  for  more  than  a  year." 

He  bowed  his  head  and  seemed  to  await  his 
son's  reproof. 

"A  gambler!"  said  Frank,  going  to  his 
father  and  taking  his  hands,  and  drawing  him 
down  beside  him  upon  the  sofa.  "  A  gambler  1 
So  then — I  am  a  gambler's  son."  He  was 


ALMON  CORNERS  REPENTS.       435 

silent  for  a  minute  or  two,  during  which  he 
could  distinctly  hear  the  loud  and  irregular 
beating  of  his  father's  heart.  At  last  he  said 
solemnly  : 

"Papa,  if  we  succeed  in  finding  Grandpa 
Drubal  and  little  Will  in  this  horrible  city, 
promise  me  that  you  will  never  let  grandpa 
know  what  you  have  just  told  me.  It  would 
kill  him." 

Frank  was  not  prepared  for  the  extraordi- 
nary effect  of  his  words.  His  father  sprang 
up  as  if  he  had  received  a  sword  thrust,  and 
stood  glaring  at  the  boy  with  eyes  which 
expressed  the  utmost  astonishment  and  terror. 

At  last  he  managed  to  command  himself 
enough  to  stammer  : 

"  What's  that  you  say,  Frank  ?  My  father 
and  my  baby  Will — here — in  Paris — NOW,  in 
this  dreadful  time  of  battle  and  massacre  ? 
Explain,  unless  you  wish  to  see  me  drop  dead 
at  your  feet." 

"Papa,"  said  Frank,  solemnly,  "perhaps 
at  this  moment  poor  Grandpa  Drubal  and 
Will  are  in  some  dreadful  prison,  and  may  be 
killed  to-day— to-morrow— at  any  time— by 


436         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

the  Communists.  Oh,  father !  can't  we  do 
something  at  once  to  save  them?" 

A  great  change  took  place  in  the  demeanor 
of  Almon  Corners.  A  softer  look  came  into 
his  eyes,  and  the  tears  glistened  as  he  heard 
Frank's  last  words. 

"  Sit  down,  Frank,"  he  said.  "  Tell  me  the 
story.  I  know  nothing  of  it.  How  could 
I  know?" 

"Has  Dr.  IT  Argent  told  you  nothing?" 

"Not  a  word." 

"Papa,  forgive  me,"  said  Frank.  "I  am 
so  bent  upon  saving  them  that  I  am  forgetful. 
Of  course  you  could  not  know.  But  it  is  true. 
Grandpa  Drubal  has  been  hunting  for  you 
for  months.  We  went  to  Bordeaux.  Then 
we  came  here,  and  one  day  when  there  was 
a  great  crowd  we  got  separated.  And — and 
people  think  that  grandpa  and  Will  must  be 
hid  away  in  jail,  some  say  in  La  Grande 
Roquette,  or  somewhere,  as  hostages." 

Almon  Corners  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  cry 
which  echoed  through  the  room  and  brought 
the  startled  servants  to  the  entrance. 

"My   poor    old    father!    My    baby    boy  I 


ALMON  CORNERS  REPENTS.       437 

Hostages  at  La  Grande  Roquette !  Why, 
they  say  that  the  executions  have  begun  there 
already  !  What's  to  be  done  ? " 

He  became  cool  and  very  gentle  after  a  few 
more  excited  comments  upon  Frank's  thrilling 
story.  He  put  his  arm  around  the  boy,  and 
made  him  eat  and  drink,  and  called  him  a 
hundred  endearing  names. 

Seeing  him  in  this  mood  poor  Frank  began 
to  take  courage.  "  Oh,  father,"  he  said,  rest- 
ing his  head  upon  Almon  Corners'  breast  and 
looking  up  into  the  eyes  now  agleam  with 
fatherly  affection,  "  I  don't  know  as  I  under- 
stand all  you  have  to  reproach  yourself  with. 
But  whatever  it  is,  why  not  trample  it  under 
foot  and  leave  it  behind  forever,  and  give 
all  your  strength  to  hunting  for  Will  and 
Grandpa  Drubal?  We  can  begin  in  the 
morning.  The  soldiers  will  help  us.  Dr. 
IT  Argent  is  my  friend.  Father,  let  this  decide 
you  !  Come  back  to  us  ! 

Almon  Corners  drew  Frank  close  to  his 
heart.  "I  will,  Frank;  by  God's  help  and 
yours,  I  will.  So  long  as  I  live  I  will  never 
touch  another  card  !  And  when  we  go  out 


438         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

from  here,  as  soon  as  those  demons  over 
yonder  will  let  us,  I  will  never  set  foot  in  this 
place  again." 

He  arose,  walked  unsteadily  to  the  door, 
and  pulled  a  bell-cord.  A  servant  entered. 

"Archie,"  he  said,  "strip  the  room,  pack 
everything,  and  be  ready  for  the  worst.  The 
tide  of  battle  may  sweep  through  this  place 
to-morrow.  Pay  yourself  out  of  the  money 
left  in  the  drawer.  I  will  not  touch  a  penny  of 
it.  The  Cercle  Occidental  exists  no  longer." 

"  Egad,  Mr.  Corners,  this  is  a  bit  too  sud- 
den," stammered  the  English  flunkey.  "And 
—and  really,  sir— I  must  explain  that  there's 
a  matter  of  a  hundred  pound  or  so  in  the  till. 
And  we  cannot  claim  quite  all  of  that,  don't 
you  know." 

"Let  it  rot  there!"  cried  Almon  Corners, 
fiercely.  "  I  came  into  this  place  with  a  ten- 
dollar  bill  in  my  pocket,  and  it's  there  now. 
'Tis  my  own  money  ;  I  earned  it.  And  as  for 
the  rest,  it  would  burn  my  fingers !  Settle  the 
matter  among  yourselves.  As  soon  as  the 
soldiers  move  we  shall  be  gone !  " 

The  flunkey,  whose  eyes  glistened    at  the 


ALMON  CORNERS  REPENTS.       439 

thought  of  the  money,  disappeared,  and 
Almon  Corners  sank  down  again  beside  his 
son,  and  when  the  dawn  of  Tuesday  came, 
with  its  sweetness  of  air,  and  twitter  of 
birds  which  did  not  fear  the  rumble  of  shell 
and  swish  of  bullets,  Almon  Corners  and 
Frank  were  still  talking  earnestly,  and  the 
father  held  the  son's  hand  tightly  in  his  own. 

So  engrossed  had  the  two  been  in  their  talk 
that  they  had  failed  to  realize  the  fact  that 
they  were  sitting  in  darkness.  The  huge  oil 
lamp  had  burned  down,  sputtered,  and  gone 
out ;  and  the  heavy  curtains  excluded  the  de- 
licious morning  light. 

Father  and  son  started  when  a  light  step 
and  a  merry  voice  announced  the  arrival  of 
Dr.  L' Argent,  who  came  in,  saying : 

"  Grand  movement  forward,  mes  amis  f 
You  will  see  a  beautiful  fight  from  these  very 
windows  in  less  than  ten  minutes.  Hope  I 
haven't  disturbed  yon." 

He  was  about  to  flit  into  the  inner  rooms, 
where  he  had  been  supplied  with  a  comforta- 
ble meal  on  the  previous  evening,  and  where 


440  UNDER  THE  RED   FLAG. 

the  servants  were  preparing  morning  coffee, 
when  Aluion  Corners  asked  him  to  sit  down. 

"I  will  have  coffee  served  here,"  he  said, 
"and  I  wish  to  ask  you  a  great  favor." 

Dr.  L' Argent  listened  graciously,  meantime 
casting  longing  glances  at  the  door  through 
which  the  servant  was  to  come  with  the  coffee. 

In  a  few  brief  sentences  Almon  Corners  told 
the  doctor  his  story,  and  his  determination  to 
renounce  forever  the  life  which  he  had  been 
leading.  The  good  doctor  brushed  his  eyes 
and  stammered : 

"Fine  resolve.  Stick  to  it.  Seen  many 
cases  like  yours  in  Australia.  Splendid  fel- 
lows ;  get  away  from  home  ;  run  to  seed — 
pardon  the  figure  of  speech.  By  and  by  rel- 
atives come  out  from  old  country,  touch 
them  up  ;  they  go  home  and  live  happy  ever 
afterward.  Fact,  monsieur!  You  are  all 
right !  And  now  we  must  see  that  fight,  and 
then  be  off " 

"  To  find  Grandpa  Drubal  and  Will ! "  cried 
Frank  joyously,  with  smiles  chasing  tears 
across  his  pale  face. 

Dr.  L' Argent  became  very  grave. 


ALMON  CORNERS  REPENTS.       441 

"It  would  be  folly  to  conceal  from  yon," 
he  said,  "  that  if  your  friends  are  really  in 
prison  and  held  as  hostages,  they  are  in  great 
danger.  Unfortunately  our  generals  have  been 
making  very  few  prisoners.  They  are  a  lit- 
tle more  merciful  now,  but  the  word  has  gone 
out  among  the  Communists  for  reprisals — upon 
the  innocent.  Better  counsels  may  prevail — 
yet  it  is  not  safe  to  expect  much- 
Frank  cast  down  his  eyes,  and  his  father 
groaned  and  turned  away. 

At  that  moment  the  sound  of  a  bugle  was 
heard,  as  clear,  sharp,  and  joyous  as  if  sum- 
moning a  company  of  merry  riders  to  a  trial 
of  speed. 

The  doctor  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  Monsieur 
Frank,  no  deeds  of  daring  this  morning,  if 
you  please !  We  must  lie  here  perdus,  and 
see  what  we  can,  without  opening  the  blinds 
very  much.  I  think  we  may  venture  the  cur- 
tains. Our  fellows  have  occupied  the  houses 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street.  But  from 
the  houses  below  there,  opposite  the  Made- 
leine, might  come  an  unfriendly  bullet.  And 
remember,  a  hand  to  hand  fight  is  likely  to 


442         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

take  place  under  your  very  eyes.  If  we  sweep 
this  position,  this  whole  quarter  of  the  town 
will  be  ours,  and  we  can  move  rapidly  for- 
ward. If  not " 

Almon  Corners  went  forward  and  arranged 
the  curtains  with  a  deftness  which  showed  that 
he  had  already  learned  something  of  the  dan- 
gers of  street  lighting. 

While  he  did  this.  Frank  and  the  doctor 
strolled  through  the  darkened  rooms  of  the 
Cercle  Occidental,  and  looked  at  the  shrouded 
tables,  at  which  there  had  been  no  play  for 
weeks— not  since  the  rich  had  fled  from  the 
wrath  of  the  Commune. 

And  now  Sny,  who  had  almost  fancied, 
since  their  arrival  in  the  house,  that  he  was 
living  in  a  dream,  came  in,  and  Frank  told 
him  the  story  of  the  finding  of  his  father,  and 
why  he  had  not  ventured  to  speak  to  him 
about  the  long  lost  man  before,  and  how  there 
was  now  another,  and  apparently  a  most 
earnest  ally  in  their  little  expedition  in  search 
of  Grandpa  Drubal  and  little  Will.  Sny 
listened  with  his  usual  coolness,  and  when 
Frank  had  finished,  he  said:  "Well,  if  we 


ALMON  CORNERS  REPENTS.       443 

three  can't  fetch  them  out  of  any  trouble 
that  they  are  in,  I  reckon  nobody  can 
do  it." 

The  servants,  surly  and  pallid,  were  hastily 
packing  tapestries  and  rich  bric-a-brac. 
Frank  had  seen  many  a  gambling  saloon  in 
the  West,  but  his  grandfather  had  inculcated 
in  him  a  peculiar  detestation  for  the  vice  of 
gaming.  He  came  out  from  the  close  rooms 
with  a  shudder  of  disgust. 

The  cool  morning  air  was  pouring  in 
through  the  half-opened  shutters  which  com- 
manded the  scene  of  the  coming  fight. 

Frank  looked  down  directly  upon  a  bar- 
ricade at  least  ten  feet  in  thickness.  Behind 
it  the  Communists  were  grouped,  hungry, 
grimy,  determined.  The  sunlight  brought 
into  strong  relief  all  their  wrinkles,  their 
torn  and  patched  uniforms,  their  unkempt 
beards. 

Beside  an  overturned  two-wheeled  cart, 
such  as  baggage  porters  use,  lay  a  boy  of 
sixteen  with  a  ghastly  wound  in  his  head. 
The  slaughter  had  begun. 

Erect  on  the  barricade  stood  a  cantiniere> 


444 


UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 


looking,  in  her  jaunty  costume,  like  a  graceful 
boy.  She  was  singing  a  patriotic  song. 

Frank  looked  sharply  at  her  and  gave  a 
joyful  cry. 

It  was  Laurette. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

LAURETTE  AT  THE  BARRICADE. 

A  ND  now  there  was  a  shuffling  noise, 
-LA.  as  of  hundreds  of  feet.  "Those  are 
our  fellows  coming  down,"  whispered  Dr. 
IT  Argent. 

Frank  and  Sny  were  surprised  to  see  thirty 
or  forty  Versaillists  stealing  along  the  street, 
holding  their  guns  with  the  stocks  in  the  air, 
and  making  friendly  gestures  to  the  Com- 
munists. 

The  gaunt  men  behind  the  barricade  stood 
to  their  posts,  a  double  line  of  harsh-featured 
fighters,  expecting  no  mercy,  and  ready  to  fire 
at  their  chiefs  order. 

On  came  the  Versaillists,  still  beckoning 
and  pretending  amity.  Now  they  were  fifty 
or  sixty.  The  boys  looked  again  and  they 
were  a  hundred;  yet  again,  and  they  were 
two  hundred,  and  had  nearly  filled  the  street 
from  curb  to  curb. 

445 


446         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

An  old  captain  in  jack-boots,  and  with  a 
stout  cane  in  his  hand,  stood  just  at  the  back 
of  his  men. 

Presently  the  foremost  of  the  soldiers  held  up 
his  cup  to  Laurette,  who  stood  singing  on  the 
barricade  still,  and  asked  her  boldly  for  a  drink. 

"  Ho,  ho  ! "  shouted  Laurette  ;  "  since  when 
do  the  Federals  drink  with  their  enemies? 
Not  to-day,  beau  masque ;  not  to-day  can  you 
buy  any  drink  of  me  but  blood  !  " 

The  soldiers  kept  on  pressing  in,  and  hold- 
ing their  musket  butts  in  the  air,  and  crying 
out :  "  Peace  !  peace  !  " 

The  gaunt  men  still  stood  to  their  guns 
behind  the  barricade.  But  there  was  a  wist- 
f ulness  in  their  eyes  which  showed  that  they 
had  had  enough  of  fighting.  A  moment  more 
and  they  would  have  been  irresolute. 

At  that  instant  there  was  a  loud  clamor  on 
the  Boulevard  Malesherbes.  The  barricade 
was  about  to  be  turned  by  troops  coming  down 
on  the  other  side  of  the  great  house. 

Some  of  the  Communists  ran  to  discharge 
their  weapons  in  that  direction.  Laurette 
stepped  swiftly  down  from  the  barricade. 


LAURETTE   AT  THE   BARRICADE.  447 

Next  came  a  loud,  exultant  cry  from  the 
balconies,  directly  opposite  that  upon  which 
the  windows  of  Almon  Corners'  apartments 
opened. 

Frank  was  startled  to  see  the  balconies 
filled  with  Versaillist  troops,  who  were  point- 
ing their  guns  down  into  the  barricade. 

Now  the  old  captain  in  the  street  below  was 
suddenly  transformed  into  a  dancing  and 
swearing  demon,  prodding  his  soldiers  with 
his  cane  and  urging  them  to  charge  the  bar- 
ricade. One  or  two  rattling  shots  were  heard  ; 
then  twenty  Communists  leaped  upon  the 
piled  stones,  and  covering  the  soldiers  with 
their  guns  before  they  could  reverse  their 
weapons,  they  held  them  inactive,  seeming 
not  to  care  that  they  themselves  were  covered 
by  the  regulars  in  the  balconies  above. 

Thus  the  battle  was  held  so,  moveless  for 
half  a  minute,  that  it  might  have  been  photo- 
graphed. Then  came  a  wild  yell  from  the 
barricade.  The  loopholes  belched  forth  fire ; 
there  were  shrieks  and  curses  from  the 
wounded.  The  regulars  responded  by  a  crash- 
ing volley  from  the  street  and  balcony. 


448         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

And  then  the  curtain  of  white  smoke 
covered  everything. 

"There  will  be  work  for  us  below,  boys," 
said  Dr.  L' Argent,  "after  our  fellows  have 
passed  on.  Monsieur  Corners,  and  you 
Master  Sny,  snatch  caps  from  the  first  dead 
men  from  our  troops  whom  you  see,  and 
put  them  on,  and  I  will  make  you  my 
aids." 

The  smoke  arose,  and  Frank  and  Sny 
shuddered  as  their  eyes  fell  on  the  spectacle 
disclosed  by  the  lifted  curtain. 

A  line  of  Communists  lay  mown  down 
behind  the  barricade,  and  a  few  grim  and  ugly 
fellows,  still  at  the  loopholes,  were  preparing 
to  fire  again.  Three  women  were  lying  as 
quietly  as  if  asleep,  where  a  volley  had  struck 
them. 

But  Laurette  was  not  dead,  for  Frank  could 
see  her  kneeling  in  the  shelter  of  the  barricade 
and  supporting  with  one  arm  the  head  of  a 
wounded  man.  Frank  hastily  outlined  her 
story  to  Sny,  as  they  stood  looking  at  the 
spectacle. 

A  crash  and  a  clatter  of  drums  !    The  ear- 


LAURETTE  AT  THE  BARRICADE.  449 

piercing  cry  of  a  bugle  sounding  the  attack, 
and  right  across  the  open  space  behind  the 
barricade,  after  they  had  swept  it  with  a 
volley,  charged  a  whole  regiment  of  pale-faced 
young  liners,  their  pots  and  pans  clattering  on 
their  shoulders,  and  their  officers  pounding 
the  laggards  with  sticks. 

This  great  mass  of  soldiers  once  past,  the 
liners  in  the  balconies  began  to  pick  off  the 
Communists  left.  But  suddenly,  both  these 
and  the  men  in  the  street  below  were  with- 
drawn ;  and  three  minutes  later  the  dying 
Federals  were  left  to  themselves.  The  fight 
had  moved  on  beyond  them,  and  the  Versail- 
lists  had  not  had  time  yet  to  come  back  and 
finish  them. 

Frank's  eager  eyes  sought  for  Laurette. 
"Let  ns  hasten  down,  doctor,"  he  said. 
"  You  can  make  Laurette  a  prisoner.  I  have 
told  you  that  I  owe  my  life  to  her  almost  as 
much  as  to  you." 

"Come,  boy,  come,"  said  the  doctor,  and 
they  were  soon  at  the  barricade,  deserted  by 
all  save  the  desperately  wounded.  Almon 
Corners  was  close  beside  his  son,  and  watched 


450         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

over  him,  as  they  stepped  within  the  limits  of 
the  Communist  street  fortress. 

One  grizzled  old  fellow  gave  the  doctor  a 
scowl  of  hate  and  tried  to  rise  and  fire  a  pistol 
at  him.  But  his  effort  exhausted  him,  and  he 
fell  back  and  exhaled  his  life  with  a  long  sigh, 
which  sounded  not  unlike  the  rattle  of  an 
angry  reptile. 

Suddenly  Frank  gave  a  cry  and  bounded 
forward.  He  had  reached  Laurette. 

She  was  seated  on  the  ground,  and  leaning 
against  a  pile  of  paving  stones  which  looked 
as  if  it  might  at  the  least  breath  topple  over 
and  kill  her. 

"This  is  Laurette,  the  cantiniere,  about 
whom  I  have  told  you  so  much,  doctor,"  cried 
Frank.  "Lookout!" 

As  Dr.  L' Argent  approached  her,  she  sud- 
denly drew  a  pistol  from  her  belt  and  fired 
straight  at  his  head,  but  the  bullet  flew  harm- 
lessly by,  and  in  another  instant  the  doctor 
was  kneeling  beside  her,  and  had  wrenched 
the  weapon  from  her  hand. 

"Don't  shoot  around  like  that,  my  good 
woman,"  he  said.  "You  might  kill  some  of 


LAURETTE  AT  THE  BARRICADE.  451 

your  friends !  Don' t  you  know  this  boy  here  ? 
He  has  told  me  all  about  you,  and  how  you 
gave  us  the  slip  at  the  villa  at  Bas-Meudon, 
don't  you  remember? " 

Laurette  gave  him  a  fierce  look,  and  raising 
herself  up  with  some  difficulty,  gazed  long  and 
steadfastly  at  Frank. 

"The  little  American,"  she  said  smiling. 
"Oh,  Grand  Dieu !  Why,  he  is  kneeling 
beside  me!  Ah,  they  didn't  shoot  thee  then, 
my  poor  boy  ?  I  am  glad  of  that.  Yes,  I 
gave  thee  the  slip  that  night.  Ah,  ha !  I  lay 
on  the  roof  where  none  of  them  were  looking, 
but  I  could  not  see  the  soldiers  from  where  I 
lay.  I  was  suffocating  under  some  loose 
boards." 

While  she  was  speaking  the  doctor  was 
carefully  examining  a  wound  in  the  girl's  right 
shoulder.  A  bullet  had  left  an  ugly  track 
there,  and  as  the  good  doctor  was  taking  care 
of  this  young  tigress,  he  thought  how  he 
would  have  been  reproached  by  his  superiors 
had  they  chanced  upon  him  just  then.  As  he 
was  staunching  the  flow  of  blood,  Laurette 
raised  her  left  hand,  and,  looking  intently  at 


452         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Frank,  placed  her  finger  on  her  lips,  and 
indicated,  by  the  expressive  pantomime,  which 
the  lower  classes  of  the  Parisians  so  well 
understand,  that  she  had  something  private  to 
tell  him. 

"  Poor  boy,"  she  said,  talking  to  the  doctor. 
"He  doesn't  understand  half  I  say." 

"Well,"  said  Dr.  L' Argent,  "he  has 
picked  up  a  good  deal  of  French,  and  if  you 
value  his  safety  at  all,  you  ought  to  be  glad 
he  is  in  our  hands,  instead  of  in  yours,  just 
now." 

"Ah,  bah,"  said  Laurette  ;  "and  you,  Yer- 
saillists,  are  you  his  friends  ?  Are  you  sure 
he  is  safe  with  you  ?" 

"Much  safer  than  with  you,  woman,"  said 
the  doctor.  "  And  now,  we  must  get  you 
removed  to  some  better  place.  You  might  be 
shot  here  if  any  more  of  our  fellows  happen 
along.  There,  I  have  done  the  best  I  can  for 
you  for  the  moment.  You  had  an  ugly  cus- 
tomer in  that  bullet." 

"Yes,"  said  the  cantiniere  fiercely,  "but 
we  must  take  our  chances.  If  "we  fight  like 
men  we  must  bear  our  wounds  like  men.  But 


LAURETTE   AT  THE  BARRICADE.  453 

just  remember  that  if  that  liner  had  not  sent 
me  a  bullet  while  I  was  giving  that  poor 
fellow  yonder  a  drink,  I  would  have  driven 
you  out  of  here,  my  fine  fellows !  But 
now — 

The  doctor  had  already  turned  away  from 
her  and  was  attending  to  someone  else.  Lau- 
rette  beckoned  to  Frank  to  approach. 

As  he  came  forward  a  terrific  explosion  was 
heard  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Madeleine,  causing 
them  to  start  and  look  up  in  alarm.  Then 
came  the  cry  of  "  Fire  !  Fire  !  Help  !  "  from 
a  hundred  voices. 

"  Ah,  ha  !  "  cried  Laurette.  "  Did  you  hear 
that  cry  of  fire  ?  The  end  is  at  hand  !  The 
cleansing  of  Paris  has  begun !  The  city 
shall  be  purged  by  fire !  Its  palaces  shall 
perish  in  flame  !  And  you,  dogs  of  Versail- 
lists,  shall  be  burned  like  rats  in  a  trap  !  Fire 
and  flame  !  Vive  la  Commune  !  " 

Startled  by  such  vehemence,  and  by  the 
expression  of  intense  rage  upon  Laurette' s 
face,  Frank  started  back,  but  she  reached  out 
her  strong  arm  and  caught  him  and  drew  him 
down  to  her. 


454         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"Quick,"  she  said;  "listen.  You  must 
understand.  Summon  up  all  your  French. 
I  have  a  message  from  Dombrowski  for  you." 

The  doctor  was  coming  toward  them  once 
more.  Laurette  at  once  lay  back  as  if  in 
complete  exhaustion,  and  closed  her  eyes. 
"Wait,"  she  whispered,  "until  he  moves 
away  again." 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

THE   LETTEH   FROM   DOMBROWSKI. 

A  LMON  CORNERS  staggered  and  would 
JLJL  have  fallen  if  the  stout  arm  of  Dr. 
L' Argent  had  not  sustained  him. 

4 'Not  used  to  blood,  eh?"  said  the  doctor, 
with  an  attempt  to  be  gruff,  but  with  an  ex- 
pression on  his  sympathetic  face  that  belied 
his  rough  voice.  "Never  mind.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  feeling  will  wear  off,  and  you  will 
think  no  more  of  seeing  a  Communist  kick  up 
his  heels  and  pass  into  the  next  world  than  of 
watching  a  fly  caught  by  the  November  cold, 
eh,  Frank?" 

Then  the  doctor  left  Almon  Corners  and 
attended  a  poor  regular  who  was  groaning 
with  a  splintered  leg.  With  a  few  skilful 
touches  he  relieved  the  worst  suffering  until 
the  ambulance  could  come  up.  "  The  leg  may 
have  to  come  off,  old  boy,"  said  the  doctor, 
''  so  screw  your  courage  up  to  that  point ; 


456         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

then,  if  you  don' t  need  your  bravery  for  am- 
putation, it  will  be  all  ready  for  use  when  you 
begin  your  lighting  again,  don't  you  see? 
Nothing  like  preparation." 

Frank  felt  his  father's  arm  steal  around 
his  waist,  and  he  knew  that  Almon  Corners 
was  trembling  for  the  safety  of  the  boy 
who  had  found  him  and  saved  his  life  from 
wreck. 

Almon  Corners,  usually  brave  enough,  was 
dazed  by  this  sudden  plunge  into  the  thick  of 
the  insurrection.  He  had  been  shut  up  for 
weeks  in  the  close  rooms  of  the  Cercle  Occi- 
dental, smoking  strong  cigars,  and  now  and 
then  glancing  from  the  windows  at  the  dis- 
turbed outer  world. 

And  now,  at  a  word,  he  set  forth  into  the 
radiance  of  the  May  sunshine ;  he  saw  regi- 
ments charging  across  the  broad  steps  in  front 
of  the  ruined  barricade  ;  he  heard  the  scream 
of  the  bugle  ;  he  noted  the  lurid  faces  of  the 
young  soldiers  as  they  were  pushed  forward  to 
the  struggle  which  must  mean  death  to  some 
of  them  ;  and  he  trembled. 

What  terrors  must  be  enacted  ;  what  obsta- 


THE  LETTER   FROM   DOMBROWSKI.          457 

cles  be  overcome,  before  he  could  reach  the 
remote  quarter  of  Paris  in  which  was  the 
prison  of  La  Grande  Roquette,  where  his  old 
father  and  dear  little  Will  were,  perhaps,  now 
confined !  At  any  moment,  both  he  and 
Frank  might  be  swept  away,  and  then  what 
would  become  of  these  loved  ones !  How 
did  he  know  that  Grandpa  Drubal  and  Will 
were  at  La  Grande  Roquette  ?  What  if  it 
were  all  a  mistake  ?  What  if  it  should  be 
impossible  to  find  the  old  man  and  the  child, 
even  after  the  insurrection  was  crushed? 
Or  what  if  they  were  to  find  them — dead  ? 

Alnion  Corners  was  now  suffering  the  pen- 
alty of  his  sin.  As  he  had  tortured  his  old 
father  by  his  absence,  and  left  him  to  lan- 
guish in  uncertainty,  so  now  he  was  tortured 
by  doubt.  So  now  the  filial  love  which  had 
been  nearly  extinguished  in  his  breast  sprang 
into  a  leaping  flame,  and  seemed  almost  to 
shrivel  up  his  vital  forces. 

As  he  stood  there,  in  an  angle  of  the  heaps 
of  stone  which  had  composed  the  barricade, 
Almon  Corners  felt  as  if  he  must  rely  entirely 
upon  his  son.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had 


458         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

all  at  once  grown  weak,  and  that  Frank  must 
be  the  leader. 

"  Come  and  give  a  hand  here,"  cried 
the  cheery  voice  of  Dr.  L' Argent  to  Almon 
Corners. 

Glad  to  be  aroused  from  his  sombre  revery, 
Frank's  father  jumped  up  and  went  to  the 
doctor,  who  was  turning  over  a  big  liner 
who  had  fainted  from  pain,  and  now  lay  on 
his  face  groaning. 

This  was  the  opportunity  for  which 
Laurette  had  been  looking.  She  called  to 
Frank  quickly,  and  put  into  his  hand  a 
letter. 

It  was  addressed  thus  : 

M.  Frank  Corners,  from  the  General  Dombrowski. 
With  all  speed. 

All  Federals  are  required  to  pass  forward  the  bearer 
of  this  letter,  which  is  important  to  the  Service  of  the 
Commune. 

In  an  instant  Frank  understood.  Laurette 
had  seen  Dombrowski  since  her  return  into 
Paris.  She  had  told  him  that  Frank  might 
have  been  killed  at  Jules  Raisin's  outpost,  but 
that  she  was  not  certain  of  it,  and  the  general 


THE  LETTER  FROM   DOMBROWSKI.          459 

had  charged  her  with  the  delivery  of  this 
message  to  Frank,  if  she  ever  found  him 
again. 

Knowing  that  it  would  be  dangerous  to 
hand  Frank  the  letter  in  the  doctor's  pres- 
ence, she  had  managed  to  give  it  to  him 
unperceived.  Faithful  Laurette ! 

The  address  of  the  letter  was  written  in  a 
faint,  although  a  bold  hand,  and  at  the  last 
it  finished  brokenly  and  hazily,  as  if  the 
writer's  strength  had  suddenly  given  out. 
It  was  upon  the  back  of  the  folded  sheet. 
Evidently  the  general  had  found  no  envelopes 
handy.  In  one  corner,  where  postage  stamps 
are  usually  placed  on  letters,  was  dingily 
stencilled  in  circular  form,  these  words  : 

SERVICE  DE  LA  COMMUNE. 

Frank  turned  hastily  away,  and  stepped 
around  the  angle  of  the  barricade,  where,  un- 
perceived, though  at  some  little  risk  of  chance 
shots,  he  managed  to  read  the  letter.  He 
turned  pale  as  death,  and  burst  into  convul- 
sive sobbing.  Brave  and  manly  as  he  was,  he 


460         UNDEU  THE  KED  FLAG. 

could  not  restrain  the  tempest  of  grief  that 
arose  in  his  bosom.     Thus  ran  the  letter  : 

TUESDAY. 
MON  CHER  FRANK  . 

I  am  dying.  Yes,  Dombrowski,  in  a  few  hours,  will 
be  no  more.  All  our  proud  ambitions,  our  high  designs, 
my  poor  Frank,  are  scattered  to  the  winds.  In  the 
Place  Clichy,  this  morning,  I  got  a  wound  which  is  cer- 
tain to  prove  fatal.  It  is  better  so.  If  the  enemy  is — 
they  say 

[Here  a  few  lines  were  marked  out  with  great 
black  pencil  scratches,  as  if  the  writer  feared 
they  might  be  the  cause  of  trouble  to  the 
recipient  of  the  letter.] 

I  have  got  my  last  bullet,  and  I  do  not  care  much, 
except  for  you,  and  a  few  other  friends  who  know  that 
Dombrowski  was  brave  and  true,  and  had  a  good  heart. 
Laurette  is  here,  and  this  my  last  message  to  you  carries 
sorrowful  news.  After  you  left  Montrouge  I  managed 
to  find  out  something  about  the  hostages.  My  poor 
Frank,  there  is  no  doubt  that  General  Corners  and  his 
little  grandson,  your  brother,  are  at  La  Grande  Roquette 
among  the  other  hostages.  Oh,  hasten,  as  you  value 
their  precious  lives!  As  soon  as  you  receive  this  letter, 
hurry  to  their  rescue,  wherever  you  may  be,  or  you  will 
be  too  late.  The  hostages  are  all  doomed  to  execution. 
May  Fate  keep  your  dear  friends  and  yourself,  my  poor 
Frank,  and  so  farewell. 

DOMBROWSKI. 

In  hospital. 


THE  LETTER  FROM  DOMBROWSKI.          461 

Below  was  added  in  fainter,  more  straggling 
script  : 

The  doctor  has  just  told  me  that  I  cannot  last  more 
than  two  or  three  hours  longer.  I  send  you,  my  dear 
little  companion-in-arms,  a  supreme  farewell. 

Some  of  the  English  words  were  misspelled, 
and,  in  one  or  two  cases,  so  oddly  written  that 
they  caused  Frank  much  trouble  to  decipher. 

But  when  he  had  completely  mastered  the 
letter's  meaning,  he  drew  himself  up,  shut  his 
lips  firmly,  and  seemed  to  be  boldly  preparing 
to  spring  forward  into  some  new  peril. 

Fortunately,  Dr.  L' Argent  was  moving 
farther  and  farther  away,  his  quick  eye  de- 
tecting the  gravest  cases,  and  passing  over  the 
lighter  ones,  so  that  Frank  was  able  to  call 
his  father  and  place  the  letter  in  his  hand. 

"This  woman  brought  it  to  me,"  he  said 
curtly.  "It  is  a  letter  from  General  Dom- 
browski.  It  tells  us  what  we  want  to  know." 

Almon  Corners  looked  up,  almost  bewildered 
by  the  sudden  change  in  Frank's  manner,  by 
the  assumption  of  generalship  which  had 
transfigured  the  boy.  Then  admiration  and 
respect  were  visible  in  his  gaze.  He  raised 


462         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Dombrowski's  letter  with  a  shaking  hand, 
read  it  through  attentively,  and  then  sprang 
to  his  feet  with  a  groan. 

"This  is  awful!"  he  said,  while  the  cold 
sweat  stood  upon  his  brow.  He  looked  hope- 
lessly around  him  like  a  wounded  animal  at 
bay. 

"  My  poor  old  father  ! "  he  sighed.  "And 
my  innocent  child  !  To  perish  so — and  by  my 
fault.  If  it  had  not  been  for  my  folly  they 
would  never  have  ventured  into  this  labyrinth 
of  murder.  AVhat — what  is  to  be  done  ? " 

Frank  glanced  around  at  Dr.  L'Argent. 
That  energetic  personage  was  fuming  and  rag- 
ing at  the  ambulance-men,  because  they  were 
awkardly  handling  a  poor  fellow  whose  right 
arm  had  been  taken  off  by  a  fragment  of  shell. 
The  doctor  was  likely  to  be  busy  there  for 
some  minutes. 

The  tide  of  battle  had  surged  around  the 
corner  of  the  great  church  of  the  Madeleine, 
and  was  flowing  out  to  the  central  boulevards. 

Just  at  this  moment  Sny  came  up,  his  gray 
eyes  blazing  with  excitement,  and  he  stood 
looking  from  the  father  to  the  son  as  if  hop- 


THE  LETTER  FROM  DOMBROWSKI.          463 

ing  that  one  or  the  other  of  them  would  invite 
him  to  some  new  adventure. 

"  You  ask  me  what  is  to  be  done,  father?" 
said  Frank,  his  youthful  tones  vibrating  with 
emotion.  "Does  this  suggest  anything  to 
you  ?  It  certainly  does  to  me." 

He  took  the  letter  and  turned  it  so  that 
Almon  Corners  could  see  the  inscription. 

Frank's  father  gazed  rather  blankly  at  the 
words,  then  looked  up  at  Frank  with  a  flash 
of  energy  in  his  eyes. 

Evidently  he  had  caught  his  son's  idea. 

"Father,"  said  Frank,  "if  we  remain  in 
the  Versaillist  lines  until  the  battle  is  over,  we 
shall  never  see  Grandpa  Drubal  and  little  Will 
alive  again.  But  perhaps  there  is  a  chance- 
he  caught  his  breath  and  manfully  kept  down 
a  sob,  "if  we  could  reach  La  Grande  Ro- 
quette  to-day  or  to-morrow.  And  here  is  the 
very  means — placed  in  our  hands " 

"By  Providence,"  said  the  father  solemnly. 
"Frank,  I  understand.  With  Dombrowski's 
letter  we  have  a  chance  of  being  allowed  to 
pass  anywhere  in  the  Communist  lines." 

"It  is  more  than  a  letter,  father.     Listen. 


464  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

It  is  a  pass.  '  All  Federals  are  required  to 
pass  forward  the  bearer  of  this  letter,  which  is 
important  to  the  Service  of  the  Commune!' 
What  more  do  we  want  than  that,  except 
Dombrowski's  signature?  And  there  it  is! 
Not  half  the  Communists  we  are  likely  to 
meet  between  here  and  La  Grande  Roquette 
will  know  whether  Dombrowski  is  dead  or 
alive,  or  whether  the  pass  is  for  one  or  for  two. 
It  opens  the  way,  father.  Will  you  come?" 

"Yes,  but  how?  Ah,  I  begin  to  see  the 
chance  !  Behind  us  lies  a  labyrinth  of  narrow 
streets  filled  with  barricades  not  yet  taken. 
You  can  see  that  by  the  fact  that  the  troops 
are  going  round  the  Madeleine.  If  this 
quarter  were  clear  they  would  go  right 
through  this  way  and  try  to  push  into  the 
Communist  lines  at  the  back  here.  Shall  we 
try  it?" 

Almon  Corners  asked  orders  of  Frank,  as  if 
he  were  the  superior  officer. 

"Yes,"  said  Frank,  "let  us  try  it."  He 
went  up  to  Laurette,  seized  her  hand,  and 
when  she  opened  her  eyes,  he  said,  "I  under- 
stand," in  French.  Laurette  looked  glad. 


THE  LETTER  FROM   DOMBROWSKT.          465 

"Come,  father,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  fierce 
voice.  "Now  to  save  Grandpa  Drubal  and 
little  Will.  I  dare  not  bid  Dr.  L' Argent 
good-by.  It  might  ruin  everything." 

Just  at  this  moment  Frank  mastered  his 
excitement  enough  to  observe  that  Sny  was 
almost  stretching  out  his  hands  in  the  energy 
of  his  appeal  to  be  taken  along  with  them. 
He  gave  a  great  shout. 

"  Why,  of  course,"  he  said.  "  Here  is  Sny, 
father.  What  put  the  dear  fellow  so  com- 
pletely out  of  my  head  ?  But  I  have  seen  and 
heard  and  been  through  so  many  things  in 
the  last  few  days  !  Sny,  the  best  guide  in  the 
world,  the  person  most  sure  of  all  others  to 
get  us  out  of  scrapes,  and  to  lead  us  where  we 
want  to  go.  Isn't  that  so,  Sny  ? " 

Sny  took  off  his  hat  and  fanned  himself 
slowly  with  it.  "Well,"  he  said,  "I  reckon 
when  it  comes  to  getting  through  a  small 
knot  hole,  even  if  it  is  in  a  hurry,  I  can  do  it 
as  easy  as  the  next  person.  And  it  will  be 
a  mighty  small  knot  hole  we  shall  have  to 
crawl  through  more  than  once,  I  can  tell  you, 
before  we  get  to  La  Grande  Roquette." 

30 


466         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Almon  Corners  eyed  the  tall  youth  en- 
piously.  He  liked  him.  There  was  something 
in  his  face  that  reminded  him  vaguely  of 
someone  whom  he  had  seen  in  his  young 
days,  when  he  ranged  through  the  South- 
west on  hunting  tours,  and  he  could  not  recall 
who  it  was. 

"Come,"  said  Frank,  "let's  hurry."  And 
he  whispered  to  Sny  his  reasons  for  not  seeing 
Dr.  L' Argent  again. 

They  stepped  quickly  over  the  piled  stones 
and  were  soon  in  the  street  in  which  they  had 
seen  the  fight  at  dawn  from  the  windows  of 
the  Cercle  Occidental. 

Out  of  this,  fifty  yards  from  where  they 
stood,  opened  another  and  narrower  street, 
and  right  in  their  path  lay  four  dead  Com- 
munists in  a  heap,  their  limbs  spread  out, 
their  guns  fallen  beside  them. 

"Papa,"  said  Frank  softly. 

"Yes,  my  boy." 

"There's  our  chance." 

He  pointed  to  the  pile  of  dead  men,  and,  at 
the  same  moment,  he  cast  off  his  Yersaillist 
cap. 


THE  LETTER  FROM   DOMBROWSKI.          467 

"  We  must  change  colors  once  more,  papa," 
lie  said,  "for  the  sake  of  grandpa  and  poor 
brother  Will." 

Almon  Corners  was  quick  enough  of  appre- 
hension now. 

Five  minutes  later  he  and  his  son  and  Sny 
entered  the  narrow  street  cautiously  and 
looked  about  them. 

They  were  all  dressed  as  National  Guards. 
Frank  had  taken  a  cap,  a  blouse,  a  gun,  and 
cartridges.  Almon  Corners  had  stripped  the 
uniform  off  a  dead  sergeant  and  hurriedly 
donned  it.  As  for  Sny,  clad  in  the  uniform 
of  a  tall  and  lank  Communist,  who  had  proba- 
bly been  shot  but  an  hour  before,  he  had  quite 
a  rakish  air,  to  which  he  had  added  by  put- 
ting a  black  patch  over  one  eye  and  drawing 
himself  a  little  scar  on  one  cheek,  "just,"  he 
said,  "to  make  sure  that  nobody  who  had 
known  him  in  the  quarter  would  recognize 
him  now."  He  also  took  a  gun  and  ammu- 
nition, and,  after  this  metamorphosis  in  the 
shade  of  a  friendly  courtyard  the  three 
looked  like  full-fledged  rebels  against  Ver- 
sailles. 


408         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

An  old  man,  apparently  the  only  person 
left  in  the  quarter,  hobbled  out  of  a  door  and 
menaced  the  trio  with  angry  gestures. 

"I  don't  know  which  side  he's  on,"  said 
Frank,  "and  I  reckon  we'd  better  not  stop 
to  ask." 

Five  minutes  later  they  were  in  the  Com- 
munist lines.  They  joined  a  company  of  sin- 
ister-looking fellows  who  were  slowly  retreat- 
ing from  a  barricade,  although  no  enemy  was 
in  sight. 

"Now,  forward  to  the  rescue!"  whispered 
Frank  to  his  father.  "  Come  on,  Sny  !  "  said 
he. 

When  Dr.  IT  Argent  had  finished  the  task 
of  getting  the  gravely  wounded  men  placed  in 
the  ambulance,  he  returned  to  the  nook  where 
he  had  left  Frank  and  his  father. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "I  suppose  we  must  get 
this  woman  shelter,  although  she  did  snap  a 
pistol  at  me." 

He  looked  down,  then  recoiled  a  step  or 
two,  and  cried  out  in  amazement :  "  Why,  she 
is  gone ! " 


THE  LETTER  FROM  DOMBROWSKI.         469 

He  looked  up  and  shouted  for  Frank,  and 
then  added : 

"And  the  others  are  gone,  too  !  One  would 
almost  fancy  that  the  woman  had  flown  away 
with  them  through  the  air.  I  will  be  sworn 
that  she  was  a  witch  ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  FORLORN    HOPE. 

A  LMON  CORNERS  felt  as  if  he  were  a 
-LJL.  member  of  a  "forlorn  hope"  expedi- 
tion. He  knew  enough  of  the  great  insurrec- 
tion to  appreciate  the  deadly  danger  in  which 
he  and  his  brave  son  now  stood. 

Gradually,  as  they  went  along,  the  dazed, 
misty  feeling,  born  of  the  long  seclusion  in 
the  gambling  club,  began  to  leave  him.  His 
blood  bounded  joyously  in  his  veins.  He  felt 
capable  of  better  things. 

A  deep  and  overwhelming  sense  of  shame 
for  his  lapse  from  the  path  of  honor  surged 
through  his  heart  at  times,  and  made  him 
almost  long  for  a  sudden  bullet  which  might 
bring  him  oblivion.  But  when  he  looked  at 
the  bright,  cheerful,  undaunted  face  of  his 
brave  Frank,  who  gripped  his  gun  as  he  had 
seen  the  Communists  do,  and  who  acted  as  if 
he  were  afraid  of  nothing,  he  felt  a  new  inter- 


THE  FORLORN   HOPE.  471 

est  in  living  and  a  burning  desire  to  retrieve 
himself  by  some  deed  of  bravery  or  heroism. 

Now  was  the  chance  ;  and  here  was  his  son 
leading  him  on  as  if  7ie  were  the  general,  and 
the  father,  who  had  so  sinned  and  fallen  by 
the  way,  were  only  a  common  soldier.  Yet  it 
was  right,  and  Almon  Corners  felt  no  pang  of 
jealousy  or  humiliation.  He  turned  as  in- 
stinctively to  Frank  for  leadership,  in  this 
dread  moment  of  peril,  as  the  sunflower  turns 
to  the  sun. 

Little  by  little  the  conviction  shaped  itself 
in  Almon  Corners'  mind  that  unless  they 
should  reach  La  Grande  Roquette  before  the 
Versaillist  troops  who  were  approaching  that 
quarter,  tliere  would  be.  no  hope  of  saving 
the  loved  ones  imprisoned  there  as  hostages. 

Almon  Corners  knew  how  deep  the  resent- 
ment of  the  Communists  was  for  the  slaughter 
by  the  Versaillists  of  their  men,  and  he  felt 
that  as  soon  as  the  bugles  of  the  infantry  men 
of  Versailles  were  sounding  forth  their  joyous 
notes  of  deliverance  in  the  dark  old  streets 
near  the  prison,  it  would  be  all  over  with  the 
hostages. 


472         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

This  thought  burned  into  his  brain  and 
strung  his  nerves  to  supreme  tension.  Life 
would  not  be  worth  living  if  they  were  to 
arrive  too  late,  and  he  were  to  find  that  his 
little  son  and  his  gray-haired  father  were 
among  the  lost. 

So  deeply  concentrated  was  Almon  Corners 
on  these  solemn  thoughts  that  he  was  hardly 
conscious  of  walking  along  the  streets,  or  that 
he  was  disguised  as  a  Communist,  and  that  he 
carried  a  musket. 

Suddenly  a  sharp  whistle  from  Frank  and  a 
gesture  from  Sny,  a  little  ahead  of  him,  re- 
called him  to  his  senses.  He  drew  his  breath 
hard,  tightened  his  grasp  on  his  gun,  and 
stepped  up  hastily  to  rejoin  the  boys. 

"Father,"  said  Frank,  "we  must  walk  on 
eggs  here.  I  can  feel  eyes  looking  at  me  from 
every  direction.  I  don't  believe  we  are  in 
friendly  territory.  Don't  speak  out  loud  in 
English." 

Although  the  boy's  voice  was  firm,  his  face 
was  pale  and  his  lips  were  drawn.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  he  was  in  a  state  of  intense  nervous 
excitement. 


THE  FORLORN  HOPE.  473 

Almon  Corners  said  nothing  for  a  moment, 
but  drew  closer  to  his  boy,  and  brought  his  gun 
into  a  position  where  it  would  be  ready  to  use. 

As  for  Sny,  he  went  along  stealthy-footed, 
like  an  Indian. 

They  were  in  a  labyrinth  of  the  narrow  but 
handsome  streets  which  lie  between  the  mag- 
nificent quarter  of  the  Madeleine  and  the  still 
more  splendid  section  of  the  Opera,  which  was 
at  that  time  just  approaching  completion. 

Here,  between  the  two  modern  and  elegant 
quarters,  higli  shouldered,  quaint  roofed  old 
mansions  stood  side  by  side  with  superb  new 
edifices.  Vast  court  yards,  opened  into  by 
massive  oaken  doors,  and  filled  with  carts  and 
carriages,  with  household  furniture,  and  the 
contents  of  neighboring  shops,  stored  there 
with  a  view  to  their  safety  during  the  street 
fighting,  disclosed  themselves  to  the  wander- 
ing trio.  Now  and  then,  on  a  balcony  forty 
or  fifty  feet  above  their  heads,  they  could  see 
the  timid  figure  of  a  young  girl  or  of  some 
gray-bearded  man  gazing  for  a  moment 
timidly  down  upon  them  ;  then  it  would  dis- 
appear as  if  by  magic. 


474         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

There  were  no  signs  of  Communists  or  their 
enemies  anywhere. 

Frank  and  his  father  turned  a  corner  and 
went  into  a  second  street,  as  deserted  as  that 
which  they;  had  just  left.  Here  the  silence 
was  so  great  that  their  footsteps  almost 
startled  them. 

"I  can't  stand  this,"  said  Frank.  "I 
know  that  we  are  out  of  our  track,  and  the 
first  thing  we  know  we  shall  be  nabbed. 
Can't  you  see  that  the  Communists  have 
either  been  driven  away  from  here,  or  have 
not  been  here  at  all  ?  First  thing  we  know, 
we  shall  have  the  inhabitants  of  the  quarter, 
who  are  all  clown  on  the  Communists,  jumping 
on  our  backs.  What  do  you  say,  father,  shall 
we  run  for  it  till  we  see  some  blue  jackets  ? " 

"No,  Frank,"  said  Almon  Corners.  "We 
must  be  guided  by  the  sound  of  the  firing, 
and  I  suppose  we  shall  be  safer  if  we  get  some- 
where near  the  fighting  ;  but  we  must  put  on 
a  bold  front,  and  if  any  of  the  people  here  try 
to  stop  us  we  must  tell  them  that  there  are 
plenty  more  behind  us.  And  if  necessary  we 
must  defend  ourselves." 


THE   FORLORN  HOPE.  475 

"I  reckon  three  of  us  could  whip  a  bat- 
talion of  these  bourgeois,"  said  Sny.  As  he 
spoke  thus,  he  thought  of  the  grave  peril 
which  would  surround  them  it  a  mob  of  the 
irritated  inhabitants,  believing  that  the  Com- 
munists had  been  beaten  and  that  they  were 
flying  from  the  regulars,  were  to  suddenly 
arise  at  their  back. 

"  Well,  father,"  said  Prank,  "  I  tell  you,  I 
feel  eyes  looking  at  me,  and  I  want  to  get  well 
out  of  here.  Ah !  There  is  some  shooting. 
Let  us  go  toward  it!" 

They  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  mus- 
ketry firing,  which  was  now  becoming  regu- 
lar and  continuous,  and  rounding  another 
corner  they  came  into  a  wide  but  short  street, 
and  there  found  their  way  blocked  by  a  dense 
throng. 

Frank  thought  he  saw  in  this  crowd  a  few 
uniforms  of  the  familiar  blue  color,  and  so  he 
urged  his  father  forward. 

"  If  they  are  only  talking,  father,"  he  said, 
"  we  will  go  right  along  as  if  passing  on  to  the 
fighting.  They  won't  dare  interfere  with  us." 

In  a  minute  or  two  they  were  at  the  edge  of 


476         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

the  crowd.  Their  hearts  almost  stopped  beat- 
ing as  they  saw  the  cause  of  the  gathering. 

In  the  centre  of  a  hollow  square,  formed  by 
the  excited  lines  of  well-dressed  men  and 
women,  ladies  in  morning  robes,  smart  ser- 
vants in  their  white  aprons,  lace  caps,  and 
canvas  shoes,  and  even  old  men  leaning  on 
their  canes,  stood  a  beautiful  young  girl,  cer- 
tainly not  more  than  seventeen  years  of  age, 
with  the  blood  streaming  from  a  flesh  wound 
in  her  white  forehead. 

At  her  feet  lay  a  can  of  white  metal  such  as 
is  used  in  France  for  holding  oil,  wine,  or 
vinegar,  and  at  this  receptacle  everybody  was 
pointing  and  chattering  at  everybody  else  in 
a  high  pitched  key  which  prevented  anyone 
from  hearing  exactly  what  was  said. 

The  girl  was  of  the  "people."  Her  plain 
dress,  her  blue  apron,  and  the  handkerchief 
knotted  about  her  neck  showed  this.  Her 
black  hair  streamed  down  to  her  waist.  There 
was  a  look  of  mortal  terror  in  her  eyes,  like 
that  of  one  expecting  instant  death.  She 
dared  not  look  up  at  the  half-crazed  people 
surrounding  her,  but  stood  with  her  head 


TJIE  FORLORN  HOPE.  477 

slightly  bow«*d  forward,  in  an  attitude  of  in- 
tense and  wretched  suspense. 

Almon  Corners  understood  the  situation  in- 
stant) 7.  He  had  heard,  during  the  last  few 
days,  constant  reference  to  the  danger  from 
fires,  vhich  would  arise  when  the  Communists, 
drive/a  before  the  regular  army,  would  retreat. 
He  had  even  joined  in  taking  precautions  in 
the  house  where  his  club  was  located.  He 
knew  the  panic  which  the  mere  words  "petro- 
leum," or  "fire,"  dinned  into  the  ears  of  a 
property  owner  in  these  times,  would  cause. 
There  was  no  mistake.  This  crowd  had  cap- 
tured a  woman  who  was  a  real  or  supposed 
petroleuse,  and  they  were  going  to  massacre 
her,  unless  she  were  rescued,  within  the  next 
five  minutes. 

"What  does  all  this  mean?"  whispered 
Frank,  who  put  on  a  bold  air  and  jostled 
several  men  who  looked  sharply  at  him.  He 
was  not  as  familiar  with  the  petroleum  craze 
as  his  father  was. 

Almon  Corners  rose  to  the  level  of  the 
occasion. 

"Frank,   they  are    going  to  murder   that 


478         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

poor  girl  because  they  think  she  is  setting  fire 
to  the  houses.  I  don't  believe  she  has  had 
such  a  thought.  Probably  she  is  the  wife  or 
sister  of  some  Communist,  and  may  have  been 
going  to  the  very  barricade  we  saw  taken, 
to  carry  her  soldier  his  dinner.  Ah !  Hear 
the  men  shout  'Petroleuse!  petroleuse!'  I 
thought  that  was  the  trouble.  Now,  if  she  is 
lynched,  we  are !  Do  you  understand  ?  They 
will  turn  on  us  as  Communists  after  they 
have  killed  her.  We  will  outflank  them, 
Frank.  We  will  go  to  the  rescue  of  the  girl." 

"  Good !"  said  Frank,  with  the  air  of  a  general 
listening  to  the  advice  of  a  subordinate  officer. 

"  But  let  me  suggest,  Frankie,"  said  Almon 
Corners,  "that  you  do  not  open  your  mouth 
during  the  whole  business,  because  your 
French  is  not  up  to  the  mark.  Mine  will  pass. 
Now  see  how  I  will  bully  this  crowd  of  panic- 
stricken  bourgeoisie  ! 

"  Here,  here  I  "  cried  Almon  Corners  loudly. 
"What  are  you  blocking  the  way  for,  citi- 
zens ?  Room  here  !  There  will  be  half  a  dozen 
battalions  through  here  in  five  minutes.  Clear 
the  track  !  Allans  !  Au  large/  " 


THE   FORLORN   HOPE.  479 

As  he  spoke  he  and  Sny  pushed  right  and 
left  with  their  musket  butts,  nearly  upsetting 
one  sour-faced  old  fellow  ;  and  Frank,  catch- 
ing an  exact  imitation  of  the  Communists, 
came  after  him  like  a  young  thunderbolt. 
The  astonished  crowd,  a  little  startled  by  the 
announcement  of  the  mythical  battalion  of 
Communists,  fell  back  to  the  right  and  left, 
and  Frank,  his  father,  and  Sny  were  in  the 
centre  of  the  square,  and  approaching  the 
young  girl,  in  less  than  a  minute. 

"  What  is  all  this  row  about  ?  "  said  Almon 
Corners  in  his  most  careful  French.  "  What 
are  you  mobbing  this  girl  for?  Don't  you 
see  she  is  carrying  her  dinner  to  her  father  or 
her  brother  ?  What  do  you  mean  by  interfer- 
ing with  the  service  of  the  Commune  ?  Stand 
back!"  he  yelled,  as  a  well-dressed  woman 
approached,  and  shaking  her  hand  at  him 
cried : 

"  She  is  a  petroleuse.  She  has  got  to  be 
shot !  She  wants  to  burn  our  houses  over  our 
heads." 

"  Well,  citizeness,"  said  Almon  Corners, 
with  a  grim  smile ;  "  she  can't  burn  your  house 


480         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

over  your  head  just  now,  because  you  are  not 
in  it.  If  you  take  my  advice,  you  will  go 
home  and  stay  there,  because  there  will  be 
a  fight  in  the  street  in  about  fifteen  minutes, 
and  the  bullets  will  be  as  thick  as  the  folks 
are  now.  Bon' t  you  hear  the  bugles  coming  ? " 

Almon  Corners  heard  no  bugles,  but  he 
knew  what  the  fancy  of  a  nervous  assemblage 
would  breed.  The  woman  threw  her  arms 
above  her  head  and  shouted  wildly,  and  with 
three  or  four  of  her  neighbors  following,  they 
ran  away  as  if  the  foul  fiend  were  after  them. 

"  Now,  get  away  !  Get  away,  you  others ! " 
said  Almon,  winking  to  Sny  to  use  his  gun 
vigorously.  Frank  also  took  the  hint,  and 
applied  his  musket  butt  with  such  vehemence 
to  a  fat  butcher's  stomach  that  the  man  re- 
treated in  consternation. 

"Now,  citizens,"  said  Almon,  "you  are 
all  crazy.  This  woman  isn't  a  petroleuse. 
How  could  she  burn  these  solid  stone  houses 
with  the  little  petroleum  she  could  carry  in 
her  hands  ?  You  are  mad  !  Now,  Sis,  pick 
up  your  dinner  pail  and  run  along.  You  will 
meet  our  men  up  there." 


THE   FORLORN   HOPE.  481 

"  I  tell  you  she  is  a  petroleuse"  yelled  a 
fat-faced  man  in  a  black  broadcloth  coat,  with 
the  red  rosette  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  in 
his  buttonhole.  "We'll  have  her  blood  or 
yours!  " 

"No,  you  won't,"  said  Almon  Corners 
coolly.  "You  won't  have  anybody's  blood. 
You  are  too  fat.  Run  home  and  get  into  a 
good  place  where  you  can  see  the  fighting. 
Come,  move  !  Here  come  our  fellows !  " 

He  spoke  in  such  a  tone  of  command,  and 
in  such  earnestness,  that  the  crowd  actually 
began  to  break  up  ;  but  one  old  woman  came 
swiftly  forward  and  shouted,  almost  in  Almon 
Corners'  face: 

"  If  the  girl  is  not  a  petroleuse,  let  her 
prove  it.  Let  her  show  us  what  she  has  got 
in  that  can!" 

Almon  Corners  glanced  swiftly  at  the  girl, 
whose  downcast  face  and  dark  eyes  betrayed 
no  other  emotion  than  that  of  fear.  He 
stooped  and  picked  up  the  metal  can,  and  as 
he  did  so,  he  whispered  to  the  girl  :  ' '  What  is 
in  it?"  As  he  rose  erect,  he  heard  her  say  in 
a  very  faint  whisper  : 

31 


482         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"Open  the  top  and  you  will  find  a  small 
loaf  of  bread.  Show  that  to  them." 

Almon  Corners  knew  he  must  act  instantly. 
He  pulled  the  cover  from  the  can  quickly,  took 
out  a  loaf  of  bread,  held  it  up  to  the  crowd, 
and  shouted : 

"There!  Are  you  satisfied  now?  Don't 
you  see  that  the  girl  was  fetching  dinner  to 
a  soldier?  Now,  go  away  with  you,  and 
don't  block  the  street!  Do  you  think  the 
Commune  is  dead  because  there  is  a  little 
fighting  going  on  ?  If  you  do,  we'll  soon  show 
you  the  contrary." 

As  he  spoke,  he  replaced  the  bread  in  the 
can,  and  handed  it  with  the  cover  to  the  girl. 
His  action  was  completely  convincing.  The 
crowd  knew  that  it  was  the  custom  of  the 
women  in  the  workingmen's  quarter  to  go 
down  daily  to  the  soldiers  in  the  barricades 
with  provisions  for  them.  There  was,  too,  a 
certain  sense  of  relief  in  the  minds  of  most 
of  the  people  that  they  had  not  found  a  real 
petroleuse.  That  would  have  been  too  ter- 
rible. 

So  they  passed  away,  chattering  and  grum- 


THE   FORLORN   HOPE.  483 

bling,  and  as  the  noise  of  the  musketry  was 
getting  louder  and  louder,  they  believed 
Almon  Corners'  statement  that  the  Commun- 
ists were  approaching,  and  soon  not  one  was 
left  in  the  street. 

"You  did  that  well,  father,"  said  Frank. 
"You  are  general,  I  reckon." 

"No,  Frank,"  said  his  father  quietly. 
"You  are  the  brave  young  leader.  I  am  only 
the  soldier.  But  in- this  case  a  little  knowl- 
edge of  French  helped  us  a  good  deal.  Now, 
my  girl,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  rescued  one, 
who  stood  as  if  in  a  kind  of  a  dream,  "be  off 
with  you,  and  remember  that  there  are  eyes 
looking  at  you  from  all  the  balconies.  But 
tell  me  truly,  what  is  in  this  can  ?  It  is  quite 
heavy,  and  the  loaf  of  bread  was  laid  upon 
the  top  only." 

The  girl  looked  up  with  a  cold  smile.  "  It 
is  full  of  petroleum,"  she  said.  "We  will 
cheat  the  bourgeoisie  yet." 

Then  she  disappeared  up  a  side  street  with 
such  rapidity  that  the  three  Americans,  gaz- 
ing after  her,  almost  fancied  that  she  had 
been  swallowed  by  the  ground  at  their  feet. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE  CONVENT   REFUGE. 

ryiHERE  was  a  kind  of  inspiration  in  this 
-JL  rougli  work  which  set  the  spirit  of  the 
boys  on  edge.  Almon  Corners  felt  faint  and 
discouraged  from  time  to  time,  but  he  would 
have  died  sooner  than  have  admitted  it.  As 
for  Sny,  he  gloried  in  the  thought  that  he 
might  yet  be  of  service  to  the  good  old  man 
who  had  so  often  been  kind  to  him.  But,  with 
his  wider  experience  of  the  Commune  than 
Frank  possessed,  he  did  not  share  the  boy's 
confidence  as  to  the  possibility  of  a  rescue. 
Yet  he  shut  his  teeth  hard  and  there  was  a 
curious  Western  grimness  in  his  look,  as  he 
thought:  "We'll  find  them,  if  they  are  alive, 
and  if  it  takes  a  year  ! " 

Chance  brought  the  trio  a  rare  fright.     The 
petticoats  of  the  petroleuse  had  hardly  disa] 
peared  around  the  corner  when  a  little  squz 
of    Communists,   led    by  a    black-whiskei 


THE  CONVENT  REFUGE.         485 

sergeant,  came  slouching  up,  and  gave  the 
three  Americans  some  very  sharp  looks. 

"What  are  you  doing  there,  citizens?" 
said  the  sergeant,  coming  so  close  to  Almon 
Corners  that  he  could  have  laid  his  hand  upon 
him. 

"Oh,  nothing  much,"  said  Almon  Corners, 
who  had  learned  to  speak  excellent  French, 
and  never  needed  the  accomplishment  more 
than  at  that  particular  moment.  "  We  have 
just  saved  a  pretty  girl  from  being  torn  to 
pieces  by  some  bourgeois,  that's  all.  I  sup- 
pose you  would  scorn  to  waste  your  time  in 
any  such  little  service  to  the  sex  as  that?" 

"Ah,  bah!"  said  the  sergeant.  "Are  you 
making  fun  of  me?  You  are  a  Pole,  I  sup- 
pose, by  your  accent,  and  one  of  us,  or 
should  be?" 

"Yes,  my  brave  sergeant,"  said  Almon; 
"  we  are  in  the  right  cause."  Sny  and  Frank 
were  prudent  enough  to  say  nothing. 

"Apropos,  sergeant,"  said  Almon  Corners, 
feeling  his  face  pale  and  his  lips  tighten  with 
pain  as  he  spoke.  "  Have  you  any  news  from 
La  Grande  Roquette?" 


486         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

The  sergeant  gave  him  another  suspicious 
look.  "News  from  the  depot  where  they 
keep  the  hostages,  citizen?  What  are  you 
thinking  of  ?  Do  you  take  me  for  a  priest  ? " 

"Not  so  fast,  not  so  fast,  sergeant!"  said 
Almon  Corners.  "You  must  have  been 
drinking  white  wine  this  morning  ;  you  are  as 
sharp  as  if  you  had  been  eating  a  file.  One  of 
our  fellows  was  locked  up  there  early  in  the 
insurrection  for  a  little  bit  of  insubordination, 
poor  boy,  when  he  was  in  his  cups.  He  has 
been  there  ever  since,  and  now  we  would  like 
to  get  him  out,  as  quick  as  possible,  because  he 
is  a  good  Communist,  and  we  hear  that  there 
is  likely  to  be  a  clearing  out  up  there.  We 
would  not  like  to  have  him  go  the  wrong 
way."  And  Almon  Corners  made  the  sig- 
nificant gesture  of  pointing  a  musket. 

"Oh,  ho!"  said  the  sergeant,  "afraid  he 
might  get  mixed  up  with  the  hostages  and  get 
shot !  Is  that  it?  Well,  so  he  might,  and  so 
perhaps  he  has  already  !  You  need  not  take 
much  trouble  about  him,  if  you  are  sure  that 
he  is  at  La  Grande  Roquette,  for  they 
there  was  a  massacre  there  this  morning." 


THE  CONVENT  REFUGE.         48? 

Despite  his  caution,  Frank  uttered  a  loud 
cry,  which  instantly  brought  down  upon 
him  the  sergeant's  spying  gaze;  but  he 
had  the  presence  of  mind  to  push  Sny  away, 
mattering  at  him,  and  then  caught  up  one 
foot  in  his  hand,  so  that  he  seemed  to  be 
reproaching  the  awkward-looking  youth  for 
having  stepped  on  the  foot. 

The  repentant  son  of  Grandpa  Drubal 
seemed  to  feel  his  heart  turning  to  stone. 
Then  the  terrible  massacre  which  they  feared 
so  much  had  already  begun — perhaps  was 
ended  !  There  was  nothing  now  to  do  but  go 
on  and  on  until  they  met  death  or  victory. 
And  if  they  came  at  last  to  La  Grande  Ro- 
quette  only  to  find  that  poor  Grandpa  Drubal 
and  the  innocent  child  had  been  slain  with  the 
other  unfortunate  ones  ? 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  sergeant.  "Bon 
Dieuf  I  can't  spend  time  here  jabbering 
with  you  Poles.  We  have  got  to  scatter  a 
little  mineral  oil  among  these  bourgeois  before 
nightfall.  So  good-day  to  you,  citizens,  and 
don't  forget  that  the  regulars  are  not  far  off." 

"That  will  give  us  a  chance  to  exchange 


488         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

politenesses  with  them,"  said  Almon  Corners, 
tapping  his  musket  significantly. 

The  Communists  went  their  way  rather 
unsteadily,  and  the  three  Americans  stood 
looking  into  each  other's  faces,  wild-eyed, 
and  with  a  certain  despair  in  their  gaze.  Sny 
was  the  first  to  speak. 

"Don't  believe  a  mortal  word  of  what  he 
said.  In  war  time  rumors  are  thick  as  flies 
in  August.  What  we  want  to  do  is  to  lay 
low  a  little  while,  then  make  a  break  across 
the  boulevards  and  get  away  to  the  river.'* 

"  But  how  ?"  said  Almon  Corners. 

"Ah,  how?"  said  Sny.  "That's  a  conun- 
drum just  now.  Ask  me  a  couple  of  hours 
later,  and  I  will  figure  it  out.  Let's  just 
meander  down  this  way  a  little  bit  and  get 
our  bearings." 

They  moved  on  rather  listlessly,  each  one 
absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts,  each  one  plan- 
ning how  to  save  the  others  and  himself  from 
the  danger  which  he  knew  must  be  imminent. 
Presently  they  found  themselves  drawing 
near  to  the  scene  of  a  spirited  fight,  judging 
from  the  explosion  of  shells  and  the  rattle  of 


THE  CONVENT  REFUGE.        489 

musketry,  and  a  few  steps  further  brought 
them  into  a  street  which  ran  at  right  angles 
with  the  Grand  Boulevards. 

"Look,"  whispered  Frank,  clutching  his 
musket  fiercely  and  pointing.  One  side  of 
the  magnificent  Boulevard  des  Capucines  was 
burning.  Great  time-blackened  mansions 
down  near  the  Rue  Royale  were  slowly 
smouldering,  resisting  the  fire  inch  by  inch, 
as  if  unwilling  to  yield  up  the  artistic 
treasures  which  were  the  accumulation  of 
centuries.  Here  and  there  on  the  smooth 
roadway  lay  a  dead  soldier,  and  a  few  strng- 
ling  firemen  with  their  antiquated  buckets 
and  little  engines  were  doing  their  best  to 
subdue  the  conflagration. 

But  this  was  not  what  stirred  their  blood 
and  caused  it  to  recede  from  their  cheeks, 
leaving  them  pale  as  the  dead  men  near  them. 
The  sight  which  brought  consternation  to  their 
hearts  was  the  figure  of  a  tall,  good-looking 
Versaillist  officer,  immaculate  in  his  smart 
tunic  and  his  red  trousers,  his  shining  spurs 
and  his  glistening  boots,  and  the  silver-braided 
cap  which  showed  that  he  was  of  high  rank. 


490         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

He  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  roadway 
with  a  cane  in  his  right  hand,  gesticulating 
as  if  he  were  shouting  orders  to  someone  at  a 
distance.  Frank  could  have  sworn  that  the 
officer  was  looking  directly  at  him. 

"Ah,  if  that  red-legged  gentleman  sees  us," 
said  Sny,  "our  tickets  are  ready  for  us. 
We  shall  have  a  short  trip  to  Paradise." 
As  he  spoke  he  shrank  back,  and  Frank 
and  his  father  followed  the  example.  "  Yet 
we  must  get  across  somewhere  in  this  neigh- 
borhood," said  the  boy.  "  But  to  try  it  now 
would  be  nothing  better  than  suicide.  We 
must  lie  hid  until  nightfall." 

Almon  Corners  made  no  answer.  The  situ- 
ation to  him  seemed  desperate.  There  must 
be  thousands  of  regulars  slowly  making  their 
way  up  the  river,  on  both  sides  of  it.  The 
presence  of  this  officer  indicated  that  the  trio 
was  perhaps  already  within  the  Versaillist 
lines.  What  chance  would  they  have  for  their 
lives,  dressed  as  they  were  like  Communists, 
and  bearing  documents  from  a  rebel  general  ? 

"Oh,  if  it  were  only  night,"  sighed  Frank. 
"Look,  father,  see  how  red  the  sky  is." 


THE  CONVENT  REFUGE.        491 

"The  Tuileries  must  be  on  fire,"  said 
Almon  Corners,  "and  that  light  is  exactly 
where  the  old  palace  should  be." 

"Yes,"  observed  Sny,  with  his  curious 
drawl,  "  that  fire  is  kindled  by  the  Com- 
munists. It  must  be  that  they  are  retreating. 
Our  chances  of  reaching  the  Hotel  deVilleand 
the  region  beyond  there  are  getting  less  and 
less  every  minute." 

"But  we  must  reach  there!"  said  Frank, 
fiercely,  taking  off  his  Communist  cap  and 
dashing  it  to  the  ground  in  a  frenzy  of  excite- 
ment. "Don't  you  know  that  we  must  save 
Grandpa  Drubal  and  Will ! " 

The  beautiful  May  sunlight  was  now  beat- 
ing down  fiercely  upon  them.  Almon  Corners 
felt  weak  and  helpless.  The  enthusiasm  of 
his  boy  seemed  no  longer  to  electrify  him. 

The  three  turned  again  away  from  the 
Versaillist  troops,  helplessly,  as  an  abandoned 
boat  turns  on  the  waves  ;  and  some  instinct 
guided  them  to  the  open  portals  of  an  old 
mansion,  the  gray  stone  walls  of  which  indi- 
cated its  great  age.  As  the  shadow  from  the 
wall  fell  over  them  Sny  cast  an  inquisitive 


492         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

glance  around.     "  This  looks  sort  of  deserted," 
he  said;    "  let's  stroll  in." 

A  few  steps  further,  and  they  came  to  a 
little  gate  with  a  tiny  bell  attached.  Sny 
boldly  pushed  open  the  gate.  The  bell 
tinkled,  but  no  one  appeared.  "Let's  try 
that  again,"  said  Sny,  He  came  out,  and  this 
time  opened  the  gate  more  briskly.  "  Ting-ar 
ling-a-ling"  went  the  bell  gnyly.  But  no  one 
came. 

"What's  this  writing  up  here?"  said 
Frank.  "  It's  'Par loir:  Why  that's  almost 
our  word  parlor,  isn't  it  ?" 

Sny  looked  up.  "Oh,  it  is  as  I  thought," 
he  said.  "  This  was  a  convent,  a  little  convent- 
school.  See,  here  are  all  the  evidences  of  it ; 
the  small  parloir  where  people  came  to  visit 
the  scholars,  and  here,  just  beyond,  is  a  garden 
and  cloister  with  high  walls  all  around.  Say, 
look  here,  Mr.  Corners,  why  don't  we  shut 
the  door  and  take  possession?" 

Sny  began  to  whistle  softly,  which  was  a 
sure  sign  that  he  was  pleased.  "But  first," 
he  said,  "since  we  belong  to  the  Commune 
just  now,  we  might  as  well  exercise  our  com- 


THE  CONVENT  REFUGE.         493 

munal  authority,"  and  be  grinned.  "  Lucky, 
when  I  shifted  my  clothes,"  he  said,  "  I  put  a 
few  of  my  belongings  into  the  pocket  of  this 
uniform,  else  I  should  not  have  had  a  piece  of 
chalk  just  now." 

"Why,  what  will  you  do  with  a  piece  of 
chalk,  Sny?"  said  Frank. 

"Just  you,  Mr.  Corners,  stand  guard  one 
side,  and  you,  Frank,  on  the  other,"  said  Sny, 
"outside  the  door-way,  while  I  chalk  upon 
this  porte-cochere  [and  as  he  spoke  he  swung 
outward  one  of  the  large  folding  doors] 
these  words,  which  I  reckon  will  protect  us 
about  as  well  as  anything." 

And  in  a  broad,  very  legible,  and  much 
Frenchified  script,  he  wrote  with  his  piece 
of  chalk  :  "  Defense  D" Entrer  [Entrance  for- 
bidden] by  order  of  the  Commune." 

"There,"  he  said,  standing  back  and  look- 
ing at  his  work,  "  I  guess  nobody  but  the  reg- 
ulars will  come  in  here  now." 

"It  is  a  clever  device,"  said  Almon  Corners, 
smiling  approvingly  at  Sny.  "But  do  you 
mean  that  we  shall  shut  ourselves  in  here  and 
wait  for  nightfall  ?  Is  that  your  plan  \ " 


494        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"Yes,"  said  Sny,  "what  else  can  we  do? 
Five  hundred  yards  further,  and  we  are  dead 
men.  In  here  are  lots  of  rat  holes  to  hide  in. 
Besides,  until  this  quarter  is  taken  by  the 
regulars  we  are  safe  from  prying  eyes.  We 
must  not  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep,  but  put  our 
brains  to  work.  Come  on  ! " 

No  one  seemed  coming  from  either  way. 
The  trio  glanced  sharply  from  right  to  left ; 
then  upward,  to  see  if  they  were  observed. 
But  the  high  walls  of  the  convent  were  not 
overlooked  by  any  windows.  Frank  and  Sny 
brought  the  doors  together  with  a  clang,  and 
were  gratiiied  to  see  that  the  key  was  safely 
in  the  lock. 

"There,"  said  Sny,  "I  think  we  are  very 
much  at  home.  Now  let's  sit  down  and  take 
breakfast  and  plan  our  campaign." 

And  fumbling  in  the  knapsack  which  he 
had  taken  from  the  dead  men,  when  he  also 
borrowed  the  uniform  which  he  wore,  he 
found  a  large  piece  of  bread  and  a  bit  of 
cheese.  "This  is  my  contribution,"  he  said. 
"What's  yours,  Frank?"  Frank  and  his 
father  produced  from  their  knapsacks  a 


THE  CONVENT  REFUGE.         495 

meagre  supply  of  food,  and  the  three  sat 
down  in  a  corner  to  munch  and  to  think. 
Then  one  watched  while  the  two  others  slept  a 
bit,  and  by  the  time  each  had  had  his  turn  at 
watching  it  was  late  in  the  afternoon.  The 
thunder  of  the  cannon  still  resounded  along 
the  boulevard.  They  longed  to  go  out  and 
see  whether  the  battle  were  moving  beyond 
them,  or  were  coming  to  snare  them  in  this 
net.  But  they  dared  not  reappear  just  yet. 
Now  and  then  they  heard  loud  voices,  the 
oaths  and  shrieks  of  women,  and  the  clatter 
of  musketry  outside.  Once  or  twice  Almon 
Corners,  desperate  with  suspense  and  anxiety, 
urged  them  to  take  their  lives  in  their  hands 
and  go  with  him  in  a  wild  attempt  to  cross  the 
city  and  reach  the  river,  the  only  line  by 
which  they  could  hope  to  get  into  the  quarter 
near  La  Grande  Roquette,  because  the  regulars 
coming  down  from  Clichy  would  soon  cut  off 
any  hope  of  pushing  through  on  that  side  of 
the  central  boulevards. 

The  hours  pass  slowly  when  pain  and 
trouble  accompany  them,  and  to  Almon  Cor- 
ners, as  to  Frank,  the  time  between  the  late 


496         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

afternoon  and  the  coming  of  the  cool,  tranqnil 
darkness  seemed  almost  a  century.  A  tear 
stole  down  Almon  Corners'  cheek  as  he 
thought  what  remorse  might  be  in  store  for 
him.  While  he  was  engaged  in  these  grim 
reflections  he  noticed  that  Frank,  whose 
young  head  was  leaning  against  a  gray  wall 
under  an  arch  in  the  cloister,  had  fallen  asleep 
again,  and  then  he  himself  lost  consciousness. 

AVhen  he  awoke  he  felt  for  a  moment  a 
wild  alarm.  His  companions  were  missing; 
a  light  rain  was  falling,  and  his  face  was  wet 
with  it.  lie  rose  to  his  feet  and  grasped  his 
musket,  which  was  still  at  his  side,  for  he 
heard  stealthy  footsteps  advancing.  "  Who 
goes  there?"  he  said  in  French,  determined 
to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as  possible. 

"All  right,  father,"  came  the  response  in 
Frank's  voice.  "Don't  speak  so  loud.  We 
must  work  quickly  now.  We  thought  it  was 
safer  to  let  you  sleep,  for  you  would  have 
hindered  us  from  what  we  wanted  to  do." 

"Well,  it  is  done  now,"  said  Sny,  "so  Mr. 
Corners  cannot  object,  and  we  have  got  some 
nice  clean  clothes  for  him  here." 


THE   CONVENT   REFUGE.  497 

"  Yes,"  said  Frank,  "  we  must  change  uni- 
forms again.  Only,  to  make  sure  we  slmjl 
have  our  Communist  clothes  when  we  reach 
the  Communist  lines,  I  propose  that  we  put 
the  red  on  over  the  blue." 

"  Where,"  said  Almon  Corners,  rubbing  his 
eyes,  " did  you  get  these  new  things?"  For 
Frank  and  Sny  had  thrown  down  at  his  feet 
a  heap  of  clothing,  and  Sny  was  already  light- 
ing a  little  wax  candle  which  he  had  taken 
from  the  pocket  of  one  of  the  garments. 

"That  was  easy  enough,"  said  Sny. 
"  When  we  saw  that  you  were  so  sound 
asleep,  we  went  on  a  little  scouting  expedition 
by  ourselves.  We  had  several  adventures,  but 
we  did  not  happen  to  meet  any  living  regu- 
lars. We  hadn't  set  foot  in  the  Boulevard, 
though,  before  we  came  upon  a  heap  of  the 
nicest-looking  dead  ones  you  ever  saw.  There 
was  no  one  to  object,  and  so,  as  they  were  not 
likely  to  need  their  uniforms,  we  just  helped 
ourselves  and " 

"  Great  Heavens !  "  said  Almon  Corners. 
"You  had  the  courage  to  do  a  thing  like 
that?" 

32 


498         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"We  couldn't  stop  to  think,"  said  Sny, 
"for  when  we  found  that  we  are  not  only  in 
the  Versaillist  lines  at  this  moment,  but  that 
at  daybreak  they  will  begin  to  search  all 
the  houses,  we  made  up  our  minds  we  must  be 
equipped  and  ready  for  a  start  in  an  hour. 
You  must  understand  that  if  they  found  us  in 
this  house  we  should  be  shot,  and  Grandpa 
Drubal  would  wait  in  vain." 

Frank  was  already  dressing  himself  in  the 
uniform  of  a  Liner  who  had  evidently  been 
in  a  severe  fight,  for  there  were  several  blood 
stains  upon  the  coat  which  the  boy  now  fitted 
snugly  over  his  Communist  clothes.  He 
stowed  away  his  blue  cap  in  the  pocket  of  his 
coat,  pulled  on  the  red  trousers,  set  a  red 
cap  jauntily  on  his  head,  and  looked  as  if  he 
had  served  under  the  tricolor  all  his  life. 

"Come,  father,"  he  said,  "dress,  and  let's 
be  off  to  the  river.  To  the  river  !  " 

Meantime  Sny  was  equipping  himself  with- 
out any  urging,  and  was  rehearsing  in  a  kind 
of  sing-song  voice  a  little  plan  he  had  formed. 
When  he  talked  to  himself  they  knew  he  was 
doing  good  work.  It  seemed  to  the  father 


THE   CONVENT   REFUGE.  499 

and  son  as  if  they  must  now  rely  upon  the 
instinct  of  this  queer,  gaunt  youth,  who 
seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life  and  to  know 
how  to  get  out  of  every  scrape. 

The  night  was  warm,  and  from  the  many 
flowering  shrubs  in  the  cloister  yard  came  a 
delicious  perfume.  The  glory  of  the  spring, 
time  was  abroad  in  the  great  city.  For  a  mo- 
ment the  noise  of  musketry  had  died  away. 
They  might  have  fancied  themselves  in  the 
garden  of  some  peaceful  villa  remote  from  the 
strife  and  turmoil  of  cities. 

The  rain  had  ceased  falling  and  the  air  was 
cool  and  pleasant.  Sny  now  stepped  forward, 
looking  quite  gallant  in  his  uniform.  "  Just 
give  me  your  musket,"  he  said  to  Almon 
Corners.  "  That  Communist  thing  would  give 
you  away.  We  have  got  plenty  of  weapons  ; 
we  took  care  to  provide  ourselves,"  and  open- 
ing a  soldier's  blue  overcoat  he  took  from  it 
three  guns  and  a  pistol  or  two.  These  were 
quickly  distributed.  "Now  we  are  ready," 
he  said. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THEIR  DESPERATE  MISSION. 

IN  a  few  minutes  they  were  at  the  corner 
of  the  street  from  which  they  had  seen 
the  Versaillist  officer  in  the  afternoon. 

During  the  progress  of  the  troops  toward 
the  centre  of  the  city,  the  fight  along  the  main 
boulevards  had  been  terribly  severe.  Every 
step  which  the  Communists  yielded  on  these 
channels  of  circulation  was  so  stoutly  con- 
tested, that  one  of  the  best  French  soldiers 
afterward  said,  in  a  history  of  the  insurrec- 
tion: "They  acted  like  bandits,  but  they 
fought  like  real  soldiers." 

Early  on  Tuesday  the  Gare  St.  Lazare  was 
stormed,  and  the  whole  quarter  of  the  Place 
de  1' Europe  was  in  the  hands  of  the  regulars. 
General  Cliiichant,  after  taking  the  new 
Opera  House  and  the  buildings  surrounding 
it,  cut  his  way  straight  through  the  obstacles 
around  Notre  Dame  de  Lorette,  and  after 


THEIR  DESPERATE  MISSION.  501 

sanguinary  fighting  in  the  front  of  the 
Church  of  the  Trinite  and  in  the  narrow 
streets  of  the  Chaussee  d'Antin,  moved  up 
toward  the  Rue  de  la  Paix  and  was  fight- 
ing gallantly  for  possession  of  the  great  com- 
mercial quarter  near  the  Bourse,  or  Exchange. 

Those  of  the  inhabitants  of  these  quarters 
who  had  been  terrorized  during  the  insurrec- 
tion now  swarmed  around  the  liberators  and 
helped  to  throw  down  the  barricades,  and 
to  scrub  off  from  the  walls  the  flaming  proc- 
lamations of  the  dying  Commune. 

The  tricolor  began  to  appear  at  hundreds  of 
windows.  Commerce  started  up  anew.  The 
small  merchant  took  down  his  shutters  for 
the  first  time  in  twelve  weeks,  and  here  and 
there  a  cab  appeared,  the  driver  looking  as  if 
he  expected  to  be  stopped  by  the  guards  as 
an  aristocrat  because  he  went  on  wheels. 

And  now  came  out  of  their  hiding  many 
worthy  barbers  and  butchers  and  candlestick 
makers  and  tailors  and  hotel  keepers  who 
had  been  carefully  hidden  away  in  cellars  or 
in  attics  while  the  insurrection  was  trium- 
phant, but  who  resumed  their  places  in  the 


502 


UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 


National  Guard  to  which  they  belonged,  and 
at  once  assumed  a  most  bloodthirsty  air. 

These  rather  ineffective  soldiers  were  recog- 
nized by  the  generals  commanding  the  regular 
troops  as  of  small  avail  for  street  fighting. 
But  they  were  good  enough  to  maintain  order 
in  the  streets  already  occupied,  and  so  they 
were  set  at  this  work — while  the  regulars,  of 
whom  there  were  none  too  many  for  the  ter- 
rible task  in  hand,  passed  on  to  points  where 
there  was  real  fighting. 

It  was  to  this  occupation  of  certain  points 
by  the  loyal  National  Guard  that  Frank  and 
his  father  and  their  companion  owed  the  ease 
with  which  they  traversed  the  central  boule- 
vards and  passed  down  to  the  Rue  de  Rivoli. 
Had  the  alert  sentinels  of  the  regular  army 
challenged  Frank  and  his  companions,  they 
would  all  have  been  lost.  To  the  unpractised 
eye  of  a  citizen  barber,  newly  dressed  in  his 
long  unused  uniform  and  holding  his  gun  as 
if  he  were  afraid  of  it,  the  sight  of  any 
red-capped  personage  was  sufficient  to  in- 
spire awe. 

And  so  it  was  that  when  the  trio  marched 


THEIR  DESPERATE   MISSION.  503 

boldly  across  the  great  street  they  were  not 
compelled  to  halt.  The  sleepy  citizen-sentinel 
saluted  awkwardly,  and  did  not  venture  to 
enquire  where  they  were  going  or  whence 
they  caine.  Not  two  hundred  feet  away  a 
company  of  weary  regulars  was  sleeping 
upon  its  arms,  worn  out  with  the  furious 
fighting  of  the  day. 

The  trio,  in  fact,  owed  something  of  its 
safety  to  the  exhaustion  of  the  officers  and 
soldiers  of  the  invading  force. 

The  adventurers  now  entered  upon  the 
ruined  district  over  which  the  great  battle 
had  swept,  and  at  each  step  they  came  upon  a 
scene  of  horror.  Beautiful  mansions  and  im- 
mense warehouses  had  been  burned,  and  over 
them  dense  clouds  of  arid  smoke  were  still 
rising  from  their  rains. 

Here  and  there  were  piles  of  dead  bodies, 
regulars  and  Communists,  in  the  fraternal 
embrace  of  death,  awaiting  the  convenience 
of  the  captors  for  burial.  When  they  came 
out  upon  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  they  could  not 
restrain  a  cry  of  horror.  The  splendid  ave- 
nue, with  the  immense  stretch  of  the  Tuileries 


604 


UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 


Garden  on  one  side  and  with  the  great  an- 
cient arcades  of  carven  stone  on  the  other, 
was  strewn  with  gnns  and  knapsacks,  and 
with  dead  men  lying  with  their  faces  up- 
turned to  the  dark  blue  sky  ;  with  lamp  posts, 
which  had  been  shot  away  ;  with  fragments  of 
ornamental  railings  ;  and  in  one  case  a  great 
wrought-iron  balcony,  which  had  been  swept 
down  by  shell  fire,  had  fallen  on  a  group  of 
dead  men. 

Away  to  the  left  the  clock  tower  of  the 
Tuileries  was  still  smouldering.  Now  and  then 
the  light  breeze  sighing  through  the  immense 
mass  of  red-hot  coals  and  ashes  sent  out  a 
fiery  stream  toward  the  skies. 

Sny  led  his  companions  along  the  front  of 
the  garden  until  they  reached  a  shaded  place, 
where  he  turned  and  said:  "Now  you  must 
climb,"  and  he  caught  hold  of  the  iron  railing 
and  clambered  over  it  dexterously.  Almon 
and  Frank  followed  his  example.  "That's 
lucky,"  said  Sny.  "There's  a  cavalry  patrol 
every  few  minutes,  I  heard  them  say,  along 
the  Rue  de  Rivoli." 

They     stole    through    the    great    shadowy 


THEIR  DESPERATE  MISSION.  505 

alleys  of  the  garden,  past  the  statues  which 
gleamed  white  from  their  pedestals,  and  hur- 
ried toward  the  Seine. 

They  were  agreeably  surprised  to  find  no 
soldiers  of  either  army  in  the  garden,  and 
when  they  reached  the  side  toward  the  river 
they  found  the  gate  leading  to  the  terrace,  on 
which  Napoleon  III.  used  to  take  his  after- 
noon promenades,  wide  open.  The  bank  of 
the  Seine,  with  its  stone  parapets,  was  before 
them. 

Sny's  heart  now  began  to  beat  rapturously 
with  hope.  He  foresaw  a  clear  route  up  the 
river  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and  even  past  it, 
should  they  find  that  the  regulars  had  already 
reached  there.  They  swung  down  over  the 
parapet  and  floundered  along  the  steep  slope 
until  they  reached  the  water  side. 

From  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine,  so  im- 
posing at  night,  with  its  massive  lines  of  pal- 
aces, silent  but  majestic,  with  the  deep,  dark 
stream  flowing  at  their  bases,  came  cries  and 
the  sound  of  scattered  musketry.  Here  and 
there  torches  flashed,  drums  were  beating,  and 
now  and  then  a  church  bell  rang.  Evidently 


506         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

the  fighting  would  be  hot  as  soon  as  the  sun 
rose. 

"  My  kingdom  for  a  boat !  "  said  Sny.  "  If 
we  cannot  get  one,  we  shall  have  to  dodge 
along  the  bank,  and  that  will  be  slow  work." 

"Surely  we  must  find  one  somewhere 
here,"  said  Almon  Corners. 

They  were  now  near  the  arch  of  a  bridge, 
and,  as  the  shadows  fell  upon  them,  Sny  ad- 
vised the  father  and  son  to  sit  down  quietly 
together  while  he  went  off  in  search  of  a  boat. 
He  was  gone  so  long  that  they  were  beginning 
to  fear  that  he  had  fallen  a  prey  to  some 
marauder,  or  that  a  patrol  had  got  him,  when 
they  were  delighted  to  hear  the  soft  ripple  of 
water  falling  from  oar  blades,  and  the  low 
whistle  which  Sny  had  agreed  upon  as  the 
signal  of  his  return. 

At  the  risk  of  breaking  their  necks  they 
hurried  down  the  steep  slope  to  the  water's 
edge.  Sny  rowed  up  to  meet  them.  "Did 
you  hear  me  pounding?"  he  asked.  "I 
thought  I  should  wake  the  dead,  and  that  we 
would  all  be  captured.  Here  is  a  boat,  and  it 
isn't  very  leaky.  I  reckon  it  will  carry  us  all. 


TIIEIU  DESPERATE  MISSION.  607 

I  discovered  it  under  a  little  pier  just  below 
here,  where  the  owner  had  chained  it  up  and 
probably  expects  to  find  it  after  the  fighting 
is  over.  I  thought  the  chain  would  never 
give  way.  I  used  a  pretty  big  stone.  Come 
on  !" 

Five  minutes  later  they  were  tranquilly  mak- 
ing their  way  up  stream  in  the  middle  of  the 
broad,  black  current,  under  the  impulse  of 
Sny's  regular  oar  beats,  which  were  now  al- 
most noiseless.  From  time  to  time  they  came 
out  into  the  faint  moonlight,  and  then  they 
made  themselves  as  small  as  they  could  in  the 
boat,  fearing  that  they  might  be  fired  upon 
or  halted,  and  all  their  plans  ruined.  Up 
past  the  Tuileries  and  on  and  on  they  went. 
Almon  Corners  could  have  fancied  that  he 
was  floating  in  an  enchanted  bark  in  fairy- 
land, had  it  not  been  for  the  dull  pain,  caused 
by  the  suspense,  gnawing  at  his  heart. 

He  was  suddenly  aroused  by  the  soft  touch 
of  Sny's  hand  upon  his  shoulder.  "  Just  a 
little  delicate,"  he  said,  "to  know  when  to 
change  colors  again.  I  reckon  the  regulars 
have  not  got  much  beyond  the  Hotel  de  Ville. 


508         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

We  must  beat  up  stream  until  daylight,  then 
reconnoitre  and  see  which  party  is  going  to 
receive  us  when  we  land." 

"And  appear  in  their  uniform,  I  suppose," 
said  Frank. 

"  Or  course.  With  these  trousers  on,  we 
would  not  have  five  minutes  to  live,  once  in 
the  hands  of  the  Communists." 

All  this  seemed  trivial  to  Almon  Corners. 
He  was  constantly  thinking  of  his  poor  father, 
and  the  nearer  he  came  to  La  Grande  Roquette 
the  more  grim  and  dreadful  seemed  the 
thought  of  meeting  him  there.  But  why 
should  he  hope  to  find  him  in  that  sinister 
place  ?  It  was  all  rumor,  report,  and  guess- 
work. Perhaps  he  was  far  away,  on  his 
return  to  America.  Yet  no :  he  would  never 
desert  little  Frank.  He  must  still  be  within 
the  walls  of  Paris. 

Sny  kept  a  terrible  vigil  that  night.  It  was 
his  great  sinewy  hands  which  propelled  the 
frail  bark  up  stream,  while  both  Frank  and 
his  father,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and  emo- 
tion, slept  like  logs.  It  was  Sny  who  deftly 
hugged  the  shore  when  the  moon  seemed  to 


THEIR  DESPERATE   MISSION.  609 

be  looking  for  him  and  his  companions ;  Sny 
who  finally,  just  as  the  faint  flush  of  dawn 
was  visible  in  the  sky,  and  hardly  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  red  of  the  many  leaping 
and  roaring  conflagrations,  landed  the  little 
party  safely  at  a  point  a  few  hundred  yards 
above  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  He  had  advised 
them  shortly  before  landing  to  take  off  and 
cast  overboard,  as  he  was  doing,  the  regular 
uniforms  which  they  had  donned,  and  their 
weapons.  "Perhaps  we  can  reason  with  the 
regulars  if  we  are  caught,"  he  said,  "and 
explain  to  them  that  we  are  in  Communists' 
clothes  but  not  insurrectionists,  but  reason 
would  be  out  of  place  with  the  Communists." 

"Yet,"  said  Almon  Corners,  "if  we  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  regulars  with  a  letter 
from  General  Dombrowski  in  our  possession, 
it  will  require  a  good  deal  of  explanation  to 
get  us  into  safety." 

Frank  said  nothing,  but  shut  his  lips 
tightly,  and  prepared  for  the  worst.  He  felt 
the  danger,  but  something  impelled  him  on 
and  on  toward  La  Grande  Roquet te. 

"  Well,   look  here !  "    said   Sny  suddenly. 


510         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"I  will  just  spy  out  the  situation."  And 
there  was  a  twinkle  of  heroism  in  his  gray 
eyes  as  he  used  these  words.  "You  stay 
in  the  boat,  and  if  I  am  not  back  in  a  few 
minutes  just  shove  off  and  float  along  the 
stream  again.  If  I  have  to  make  a  bolt  for  it, 
I  can  swim  out  to  you.  No  use  in  risking 
more  than  one  head  in  this  matter." 

Frank  and  his  father  were  with  difficulty 
prevailed  upon  to  accept  this  suggestion,  but 
finally  they  did  so,  and  it  worked  well.  Sny 
went  courageously  up  the  first  street  that  led 
from  the  parapet  by  the  Seine,  and  in  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  he  came  back  quietly, 
whistling  "  Bonnie  Doon." 

"It  is  all  right,"  he  said;  "  the  regulars 
have  not  got  above  this  point.  But  they  are 
coming,  and  we  must  hurry.  Now,  remember, 
the  part  we  have  to  play  is  that  we  are  bound 
for  La  Grande  Roquette  with  an  important 
military  message  from  Dombrowski.  Nine 
people  out  of  ten  won't  question  us,  but  we 
may  meet  the  tenth  who  is  too  sharp  for  us. 
If  we  do,  we  must  act  as  occasion  dictates,  I 
reckon." 


THEIR   DESPERATE   MISSION.  511 

"Then  forward  is  the  word,"  said  Almon 
Corners,  feeling  a  new  courage  and  strength. 
And  the  trio  set  off  through  the  streets  over 
which  a  delicate  fume  of  smoke,  from  the 
battle  which  was  not  far  off,  was  lightly 
floating. 

They  had  not  gone  far  before  they  came 
plump  upon  a  good-looking  Communist,  who 
stood  sentinel  at  the  corner  of  the  street. 
"Where  are  your  guns,  citizens?"  he  said. 
14  Every  man  must  be  at  his  post  now,  you 
know.  We  are  falling  back,  I  am  sorry  to 
say.  McMahon  and  Satan  himself  are  push- 
ing us." 

Almon  Corners  muttered  that  their  guns 
had  been  lost  at  a  barricade  from  which  they 
had  been  compelled  to  retreat ;  and  the 
sentinel  said  nothing  more,  but  muttered  be- 
hind their  backs  in  a  way  which  was  anything 
but  reassuring. 

A  little  farther  on  they  came  to  a  small  wine 
shop,  the  red  sign  of  which  was  still  illumi- 
nated, and  there  they  saw  a  curious  spectacle. 

Half  a  dozen  soldiers  were  seated  in  the 
door-way,  and  as  the  trio  drew  near  the  men 


512         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

seemed  to  be  asleep.  But  a  second  glance 
showed  Sny's  experienced  eye  that  the  men 
were  in  the  deep  lethargy  of  intoxication. 
They  had  been  drinking  all  night,  and  the 
stupor  of  the  wine,  and  the  fatigue,  had 
locked  them  in  the  embrace  of  a  sleep  which 
was  profound  and  dreamless.  Sny  stepped 
boldly  up  and  peered  over  this  heap  of  uncon- 
scious men  into  the  shop.  Not  a  soul  was 
visible.  The  half  dozen  muskets  of  the 
drunken  men  lay  beside  them.  "Why, 
here,"  said  Sny,  "is  our  chance.  These  men 
are  too  lost  to  the  world  to  use  their  weapons 
if  they  had  them.  We  must  arm  ourselves 
and  be  ready  for  the  worst."  He  quietly 
picked  up  three  muskets,  and  handed  one  to 
Frank,  and  one  to  Almon  Corners,  then  grip- 
ping the  other  in  his  big  right  hand,  with  his 
left  he  detached  the  cartridge  boxes  from 
three  of  the  sleeping  forms. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "I  reckon  we'd  better  be 
going.  These  men  might  be  disagreeable  if 
they  should  happen  to  wake." 

The  trio  went  round  a  corner,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  were  far  away  from  the  wine  shop. 


THEIR  DESPERATE  MISSION.  513 

"  That  was  a  clever  move  on  your  part,  Sny," 
said  Frank.  "  But  suppose  the  men  had  sud- 
denly wakened  up?" 

"  Oh,  well,  then  we  would  have  said  that 
we  were  the  guard  on  patrol,  and  they  would 
have  believed  it.  They  were  too  far  gone  ever 
to  have  found  us  out." 

Half  an  hour  later,  the  three  Americans 
were  in  the  wild  retreat  of  the  Communists 
from  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and  its  neighborhood. 
They  were  pushed  along  the  wide  streets,  here 
pausing  momentarily  to  build  barricades  and 
there  to  pull  them  down,  now  half-crazed  by 
the  screaming  and  shouting  and  quarrelling  of 
the  drunken,  mutinous  rabble  on  every  hand, 
and  through  it  all  unquestioned  by  anyone — 
for  everybodjr  now  was  wild  with  fear. 

Frank  and  his  companions  never  knew  how 
the  dreadful  day  passed.  All  that  they  were 
conscious  of  was  a  steady  concentration  upon 
their  aim  to  get  nearer  and  nearer  to  the 
quarter  of  La  Grande  Roquette.  As  luck 
would  have  it  the  current  of  retreat  set  in 
that  direction,  and  every  hour  it  became  more 
desperate  and  demoralized,  as  the  retreating 

33 


514         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

masses  heard  the  thunder  of  the  cannon  and 
the  cheers  of  the  regulars  behind  them. 

The  late  afternoon  was  deepening  into  the 
evening  when  Sny  bethought  him  to  ask  a 
Communist  soldier,  beside  whom  he  had  been 
jogging  along  for  some  time,  how  far  they 
were  from  La  Grande  Roquette. 

The  gruff  soldier  glanced  around  him,  and 
said:  "Only  a  few  hundred  yards,  citizen. 
We  ought  to  go  up  there  and  blow  up  the 
hostages  with  gunpowder,  just  to  punish  the 
regulars  for  hurrying  us  along  so  fast  this 
afternoon." 

"Ha!  ha!"  said  Sny,  "good  idea."  But 
the  moment  he  got  a  chance  he  hastened  to 
Almon  Corners,  and  told  him  that  they  must 
be  at  the  prison  before  dusk  at  all  hazards. 

As  twilight  was  creeping  along  the  sky,  the 
trio  looked  out  from  a  barricade  where  they 
had  sat  down  for  a  few  moments'  rest,  and 
saw  the  dull,  gray  walls  of  La  Grande 
Roquette  looming  mistily  before  them. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL. 


DRUBAL  and  Citizeness  Mar- 
celle  sat  near  the  grated  window  which 
communicated  with  the  corridor. 

It  was  early  on  Wednesday  evening.  The 
terrible  night  fires  were  beginning.  The  pris- 
oners in  La  Grande  Roquette  knew  that  the 
Versaillist  troops  had  succeeded  in  entering 
the  city.  The  news  had  mysteriously  filtered 
through  the  grim  w?alls. 

But  it  had  brought  no  joy  to  the  hearts  of 
the  prisoners,  for  nearly  every  man  and  woman 
in  the  vast  building  was  held  as  "  hostage," 
and  since  the  Communist  guards  had  heard  of 
the  ruthless  killing  of  Federal  prisoners,  they 
rudely  announced  to  their  captives  that  they 
might  all  expect  to  be  shot  within  the  next 
forty-eight  hours. 

Grandpa  Drubal  heard  this  horrifying  news 
with  composure.  He  had  seen  enough  to  con- 


516        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

vince  him  that  his  jailers  and  the  half-crazed 
soldiers  were  capable  of  any  crime,  and  he 
prepared  himself  to  meet  his  end  calmly. 

But  he  was  resolved  that  poor  Will's  young 
life  should  be  spared,  if  there  were  any  virtue 
in  appeal  to  divine  and  human  aid.  At  the 
last  moment  he  would  implore  the  guards  to 
hide  away  the  innocent  child  until  after  the 
fury  of  the  massacre  was  passed,  and  then  to 
commit  him  to  the  care  of  the  American 
Minister. 

Little  Will  had  been  dangerously  ill,  and 
nothing  but  the  tender  and  unceasing  vigi- 
lance of  Marcelle  and  the  care  of  Grandpa 
Drubal  and  the  old  priest  had  preserved  him. 

The  gaunt  citizeness,  worn  to  the  bone,  her 
lean  features  lighted  up  by  the  celestial  glow 
of  self-sacrifice,  was  like  a  hungry  lioness 
defending  her  offspring. 

She  battled  with  Death,  and  drove  him  dis- 
comfited away.  The  fits  of  exhaustion,  from 
which  it  had  seemed  as  if  the  child  would 
never  rally,  had  passed.  On  Wednesday 
morning  Will  sat  up  on  his  pallet,  drank 
abundant  draughts  of  water,  and  ate  vora- 


BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL.  517 

ciously  of  the  coarse  food,  of  which  there  was 
always  plenty  for  him,  because  the  prisoners 
Tied  with  each  other  in  saving  bits  for  him. 

Then  he  electrified  his  grandfather  by  say- 
ing in  a  thin,  piping  voice,  with  much 
animation  : 

"  Grandpa,  I  saw  Frankie  walking  with  a 
great  tall  man,  and  I  asked  him  who  he  was, 
and  he  said" — here  the  boy  lowered  his  voice 
and  spoke  with  a  certain  reverence — "  he  said 
it  was  papa." 

Will  fixed  his  eyes  upon  Grandpa  Drubal's 
face.  The  old  man  struggled  to  be  calm,  but 
privation  and  worry  had  weakened  him.  The 
tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks,  and  he  could 
only  murmur  brokenly: 

44  My  poor  child,  it  was  in  a  dream  that  you 
saw  your  papa." 

*4  Perhaps  it  was  a  vision  of  heaven  that 
the  child  had,"  cried  Marcel le. 

"Oh,  no,  Marcelle,"  said  Will  gravely. 
4'  Frankie  is  not  in  heaven,  I  know.  He 
wouldn't  go  and  die  and  leave  us  in  the  lurch 
in  snch  a  place  as  this.  He  is  hustling  around 
and  fixing  things  to  get  us  out,  I  bet  you." 


518         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

The  air  of  conviction  with  which  these 
words  were  said  awoke  a  strange  remnant  of 
hope  in  Grandpa  Drubal's  breast.  Who  knew 
what  mysterious,  subtle  inspiration  might 
have  given  the  child  a  hint  and  conviction  of 
coming  rescue  ? 

He  looked  at  the  old  priest  in  the  hope  of 
getting  his  own  idea  confirmed.  But  the  good 
man  had  not  understood  all  that  Will  had 
said.  He  bowed  his  white  head,  and  said 
softly,  in  his  quaint  broken  English : 

"  It  is  not  strange  that  ze  child  is  so  calm. 
He  is  nearer  to  ze  God  than  we  old  men  who 
have  wandair  so  far  from  Him." 

Then  he  crossed  himself  devoutly,  and 
seemed  to  forget  all  that  was  passing  around 
him. 

Grandpa  Drubal  led  Marcelle  apart  from  the 
others  to  the  grated  window,  and  said  to  her : 

"The  child  gives  me  a  mighty  strong  idea 
that  we  may  be  saved  yet.  I  cannot  explain 
why,  but  he  does." 

His    eyes    searched    her  face  for  comfort. 

"  No,  citizen,"  said  Marcelle,  throwing  back 
her  head  and  gazing  calmly  at  her  questioner. 


BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL.  619 

"I  do  not  think  there  is  any  hope.  I  believe 
it  is  for  to-morrow."  She  shuddered.  "Oh, 
Seigneur !  if  I  could  but  see  my  Jean  once 
more  before  I  die  !  " 

"But  we  cannot,  we  must  not  die  here  like 
rats  in  a  trap!"  said  Grandpa  Drubal.  He 
raised  his  clenched  hand,  but  when  he  per- 
ceived his  loss  of  strength,  he  hung  his  head. 

"Listen,  Citizen!  One  of  the  guards  was 
drunk  last  night,  and  I  made  him  talk.  The 
Archbishop  of  Paris  and  some  of  his  good 
priests  are  to  be  shot  this  very  night,  here  in 
the  prison,  where  they  are  hostages  like  us. 
The  order  for  their  execution  has  been  signed. 
If  we  hear  the  noise  of  lire-arms  in  the  prison 
to-night,  we  may  be  sure  that  the  priests  have 
been  shot !" 

She  paused  a  moment,  and  then  laid  her 
hand  upon  the  old  man's  arm. 

"Do  you  suppose,"  she  said,  "that  they 
will  spare  us  if  they  would  not  spare  them  \ 
No,  we  are  doomed !  Paris  is  on  fire  in 
twenty  places.  The  Commune  means  to 
perish  bravely,  and  to  pull  everything  down 
in  the  wreck." 


620        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

For  an  instant  the  old  sinister  look,  which 
Grandpa  Drubal  had  noticed  on  the  face  of 
the  citizeness  on  the  first  day  he  saw  her, 
came  into  her  eyes. 

Then  it  vanished,  and  an  expression  of 
tender  pity  and  resignation  took  its  place. 

"If  I  could  see  my  husband  once  morel" 
she  sighed,  and  she  leaned  her  head  against 
the  wall  and  covered  her  face. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  flurry  of  steps,  and  then 
a  host  of  noises,  the  clink  of  spurs,  the  clank  of 
swords,  the  dull  thud  of  musket  butts  lightly 
striking  the  stone  pavement  in  the  corridor. 

Marcelle  threw  aside  her  old  shawl,  and 
said:  "Listen!"  in  an  agony  of  suspense. 
Her  face  was  white ;  her  eyes  were  set. 

"Perhaps  they  are  coming  for  us  now," 
she  whispered. 

Grandpa  Drnbal  glanced  toward  little  Will, 
who  had  crawled  over  to  the  old  priest,  and 
was  nestling  at  his  side,  and  whispering  some- 
thing in  his  ear. 

"God's  will  be  done,"  he  said  simply,  and 
he  took  poor  Marcelle' s  trembling  hand, 
kissed  it,  and  then  remained  silent. 


BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL.  521 

But  the  sound  of  steps  and  of  weapons  died 
away,  and  all  was  still  again  for  ten  minutes. 
Then  there  was  a  low  detonation  followed  by 
two,  three,  four  others. 

Marcelle  gasped,  and  would  have  fallen  had 
not  Grandpa  Drubal  sustained  her. 

"That  was  the  execution  of  the  priests  in 
the  courtyard,"  she  whispered.  "Did  you 
not  hear  the  shots  ?  It  will  soon  be  our  turn 
now.  But  we  shall  save  the  child  ;  I  know 
that  we  shall  save  the  child." 

They  went  over  to  Will  and  the  priest,  and 
were  contented  to  see  that  they  had  heard  noth- 
ing, and  that  the  other  prisoners  were  quiet. 

"Grandpa,"  said  Will  in  a  whisper,  "I 
have  been  telling  him,"  pointing  to  the  priest, 
"  that  he  might  put  on  your  long  overcoat 
and  your  nice  travelling  cap,  and  then  he 
would  not  look  like  a  priest,  and  the  guard 
would  not  abuse  him  any  more,  and  would 
give  him  enough  to  eat." 

"  Why,  yes,  Will,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal, 
"  we  might  try  it,"  and  it  gave  him  an  idea 
upon  which  he  proceeded  to  act  at  once. 

He    showed    the    good    priest    where    the 


522        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

articles  mentioned  by  Will  lay  in  the  bottom 
of  his  trunk. 

"  If  we  are  summoned  to  a  tribunal,  or  if  we 
are  rescued,  pull  off  your  robe  and  put  on 
these  things,  and  we  may  save  you." 

The  priest  said  that  he  would  consult  the 
good  God  in  his  prayers,  and  would  act  as  He 
should  give  him  light.  "If  He  should  tell 
me  it  were  a  sin  to  quit  my  priestly  robe,  even 
to  save  my  life,  I  would  not  do  it,"  he  said 
very  gently. 

"Heaven  forbid,"  said  Grandpa  Drubal. 

It  was  now  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and 
a  silence  as  of  death  had  fallen  on  the  long 
room.  Outside,  the  joyous  May  sunshine, 
which  had  illuminated  Paris  every  day  this 
week  of  battle  and  massacre,  had  slowly  died 
away  into  the  delicate  tints  of  twilight.  On 
the  Place  in  front  of  La  Grande  Roquette 
sinister  looking  crowds  of  men  and  women, 
drunk  with  wine  and  still  more  intoxicated 
with  blood,  were  moving  to  and  fro  with 
hungry  faces,  like  wild  animals  in  their  cages 
just  before  they  are  fed. 


BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL.  523 

The  women  would  from  time  to  time  turn 
toward  the  gates  of  the  prison  and  shake  their 
fists  and  utter  imprecations. 

"Blood!  Blood!  Blood!"  was  the  cry 
of  this  heartless  throng.  It  had  learned  that 
the  Versaillist  generals  were  making  few 
prisoners  during  this  fighting  ;  that  many  of 
their  husbands,  and  brothers,  and  lovers  in 
the  Communist  battalions  were  shot  like  dogs 
as  soon  as  captured.  And  now  as  the  twi- 
light wove  its  mystical  veil  above  the  great 
city,  and  the  weird  light  of  the  conflagrations, 
whelming  in  ruin  palaces  and  gorgeous  public 
buildings  upon  which  sculptors  and  painters 
had  for  centuries  lavished  the  treasures  of 
their  skill  and  genius,  these  women  turned 
their  faces  toward  the  doors  of  La  Grande 
Roquette  and  clamored  for  blood. 

Just  then  half  a  dozen  insignificant-looking 
young  men,  overdressed  in  the  cheap  style  of 
the  workingmen's  quarters,  took  seats  around 
a  small  table  covered  with  red  cloth,  in  a 
room  in  the  prison  not  far  from  the  old 
refectory  containing  the  majority  of  the  pris- 
oners. 


524         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

All  these  men  had  been  drinking  heavily, 
and  were  in  a  quarrelsome  mood.  All  smoked 
incessantly,  rolling  their  little  cigarettes 
adroitly  with  the  tobacco-stained  fingers  of 
their  right  hands.  One  of  the  youngest 
men  uttered  a  horrible  oath,  and  struck  his 
fist  upon  the  table,  because  there  was  no 
wine. 

"If  I  can't  drink  wine,  I  must  drink 
blood!"  he  said,  with  a  horribly  ferocious 
leer. 

His  companions  laughed.  An  older  and 
graver  man,  dressed  in  a  dust-stained  but 
handsome  uniform,  now  came  forward  and 
rapped  loudly  on  the  table. 

"Citizens,"  he  said,  "attend  to  what  I  am 
about  to  say." 

"Depends  on  what  it  is,"  said  one  sulkily. 

"  Short  sermons  to-day,  I  say !  Let  the 
procession  begin  !  "  clamored  another. 

"Citizens,"  said  the  elder  man,  without 
noticing  the  interruption,  "my  name  is  Jean 
Vercingetorix  Durand,  officer  in  the  service 
of  the  Commune.  After  the  beating  which  we 
got  in  April  at  Chatillon  I  was  arrested  and 


BEFORE  THE  TRIBUNAL.  525 

sent  to  Mazas  as  a  traitor.  It  is  needless  to 
say  that  I  was  no  traitor,  but  I  was  kept  a 
prisoner  until  two  days  ago.  Then  I  was 
acquitted  without  a  trial.  My  first  duty  was 
to  come  here  and  officiate  at  this  tribunal  to 
try  the  hostages.  It  is  not  often  that  a 
prisoner  becomes  a  judge  so  soon,"  he  added 
with  a  hoarse  laugh. 

The  men  looked  at  him  anxiously.  "We 
represent  the  people  of  the  quarter,"  one  of 
them  said  a  little  aggressively.  "We  mean, 
citizen  delegate,  to  see  that  you  do  justice," 
and  thay  laughed  loudly  in  concert. 

Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand  shuddered. 
These  birds  of  prey  gave  him  a  sense  of 
nausea. 

"I  expect  two  other  delegates,"  he  said, 
"  we  must  wait  a  little  for  them.  You  must 
excuse  me,  I  am  greatly  fatigued.  I  was  out 
all  last  night  hunting  for  my  wife.  She  has 
disappeared.  I  can  find  her  nowhere." 

"She  will  come  around  all  right  after  the 
fighting  is  over,"  said  one  of  the  young  men, 
flicking  his  cigarette  ashes  upon  the  red  cloth. 
"You  need  not  wait  for  your  other  two  dele- 


526         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

gates  to  commence  business,  citizen !  All 
that  you  have  to  do  is  to  bring  the  hostages 
out  and  let  them  be  questioned  here.  We 
will  tell  you  how  to  work  the  matter.  To 
those  who  are  pardoned,  you  must  say 
"Cellule"  (cell),  which  means  that  they  are 
to  be  taken  back  where  they  came  from.  To 
those  who  are  not  pardoned,  you  will  say 
"  Cellule  provisoire"  (cell  for  the  time  being). 
These"  will  pass  down  the  stairs  one  by  one. 
Do  you  understand?  And  as  they  pass  out 
into  the  square,  the  crowd  will  finish  them 
up.  N'est-ce  pas?  Parlleu!  It  won't  be 
difficult.  There  are  a  hundred  women  out 
there  with  rifles  and  pistols!" 

Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand's  lean  unshaven 
face  grew  very  pale.  He  shaded  his  eyes  with 
one  hand  and  seemed  to  be  reflecting. 

"What  kind  of  a  sawdust  doll  has  the 
Commune  sent  us?"  said  one  of  the  young 
men,  and  the  others  roared  with  laughter. 
The  citizen-general  looked  up  and  hammered 
on  the  table  with  his  clenched  hand.  Four 
Communist  soldiers  came  straggling  in,  then  a 
dozen  more,  then  fifty  more. 


BEFORE  THE   TRIBUNAL.  527 

"Bring  the  hostages  before  me,  six  at  a 
time,"  he  said.  "  See  that  my  orders  are 
exactly  obeyed,  or  I  will  have  the  prison 
burned  over  your  heads.  Silence  1  Let  the 
first  lot  be  brought  in." 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

FRANK  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS  TO  THE  EESCUE. 

"TEAN  VERCINGETORIX  DURAND  felt 
O  like  a  man  walking  on  the  edge  of  an 
abyss.  Giddiness  seized  him,  and  a  sinking 
of  the  heart,  as  if  he  were  gazing  down  into 
terrifying  depths,  came  over  him. 

He  looked  around  the  sordid  room  with  its 
ungarnished  walls,  its  bare  floors,  and  the 
little  flight  of  steps  leading  to  the  door  which 
communicated  with  the  interior  of  the  prison. 
The  more  he  looked  at  these  steps,  the  more 
he  became  convinced  that  they  were  red. 
He  peered  carefully  at  each  one  of  them, 
and  knew  that  a  few  minutes  before  it  had 
been  a  dull,  dirty  gray.  Yet  now  each  step 
seemed  the  color  of  blood. 

Perhaps  he  would  have  fallen  into  a  revery 
if  he  had  not  heard  the  harsh  voice  shouting : 
"  To  work  !  to  work  !  You  are  a  nice  kind  of 


TO  THE   RESCUE.  529 

a  stuffed  sausage  to  be  a  delegate  from  the 
Commune!  " 

Then  a  thin  piping  voice  said  : 

"Here  come  the  hostages  at  last.  That  is 
lucky,  for  we  would  have  gone  after  them  and 
sent  you  and  the  soldiers  into  the  place  yon- 
der along  with  them  to  settle  with  the  crowd." 

The  delegate  from  the  Commune  looked  up, 
and  saw  the  guards  bringing  out  six  pale 
and  wan  creatures,  who  looked  about  them 
as  lambs  look  when  led  to  the  slaughter. 

There  was  a  roar  of  exultation  from  the 
young  "representatives"  of  the  people.  The 
first  hostage  who  presented  himself  was  a 
priest.  One  of  the  fiends  arose  and  mock- 
ingly offered  him  a  cigarette. 

The  person  who  now  stood  before  the  tri- 
bunal was  the  old  priest  who  had  so  long 
shared  the  tribulations  of  Grandpa  Drubal 
and  little  Will.  At  the  last  moment  he  had 
refused  Grandpa  Drubal' s  kindly  offer  of  a 
disguise. 

"I  have  consulted  God,"  the  good  man 
said,  "and  he  has  told  me  not  to  desert  my 
robe.  I  am  ready  for  the  sacrifice." 

34 


530         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait.  A  hoarse  voice 
arose  out  of  the  crowd  at  the  table.  "  Priest, 
do  you  know  that  the  Versaillists  are  killing 
our  brethren?" 

The  priest  answered  that  he  had  heard 
nothing  from  the  outside  world  since  his 
arrest. 

"Priest,"  said  the  harsh  voice,  "you  are  a 
hostage ;  you  understand  that  hostages  must 
suffer.  What  shall  be  done  with  this  hos- 
tage?" The  voices  arose  in  clamorous  con- 
cert :  "  Cellule  proviso  ire  !  "  And  the  guards, 
who  had  been  instructed  hurriedly  in  whispers 
in  the  meaning  of  these  horrible  phrases, 
pushed  the  unresisting  priest  before  them. 
He  stumbled  down  a  step,  went  into  a  little 
ante-room ;  then  the  door  opening  upon  the 
great  Place  was  opened.  The  priest  was 
thrust  violently  out,  and  the  door  was  shut 
behind  him. 

In  the  tribunal  room,  the  waiting  hostages 
breathed  hard,  and  cast  piteous  looks  upon 
each  other,  as  they  heard  a  hurried  clamor, 
and  the  noise  of  shots  outside. 

The  second  hostage,  a  young  student  who 


TO  THE   RKSCUE.  531 

had  been  secretary  to  a  prominent  statesman, 
was  pushed  before  the  table. 

"  What  shall  be  done  with  him  ? "  said  the 
thin  piping  voice.  And  the  clamorous  con- 
cert again  said  :  u  Cellule  promsoire  !  " 

The  victim  went  away  to  his  death  holding 
his  head  high  and  disdaining  to  utter  a  sin- 
gle word. 

The  ignoble  young  men  at  the  table  laughed 
long  and  loudly.  "  Some  more  !  "  they  cried. 
"  Let  us  give  the  Versaillists  a  lesson ! " 

Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand  was  silent.  He 
realized  that  this  horrible  band  had  usurped 
his  functions  ;  that  they  allowed  him  to  sit 
there  merely  because  he  seemed  to  sanction 
their  crimes ;  that  if  he  crossed  their  pur- 
poses he  might  be  killed. 

A  soldier  who  had  deserted  from  the  reg- 
ular army  came  next.  "Cellule!"  said  the 
concert.  His  life  was  saved.  Next  came  a 
landlord  who,  by  his  own  admission,  had  five 
houses  in  Paris.  "The  landlord  must  have 
the  honors  of  the  provisional  cell,  of  course," 
said  the  piping  voice,  and  he  was  pushed  out 
— to  his  death.  • 


539         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Two  others  were  sent  the  same  road.  The 
guards  came  back  with  pale  faces.  One  of 
them  trembled  so  violently  that  he  could  not 
hold  his  musket,  and  it  rolled  on  the  floor 
with  a  clatter. 

"More,  more!"  cried  the  hoarse  concert. 
"More!" 

"I  wonder  what  will  come  next,"  thought 
Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand,  as  he  heard  the 
creaking  of  bolts  and  the  rattle  of  chains 
when  the  door  was  reopened. 

He  looked  up,  and  there  on  the  threshold 
stood  his  wife,  Marcelle  ;  her  thin  face  aglow 
with  a  spiritual  resignation  which  he  had 
never  seen  there  before.  Her  eyes  shone  as  if 
she  were  expecting  a  great  joy  instead  of  death. 

Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand's  heart  stopped 
beating  for  an  instant.  Then  it  went  on  as 
before,  furiously  knocking,  as  if  it  wanted  to 
make  its  way  out  of  his  bosom. 

Just  then  a  loud  roar  from  the  populace 
outside  caused  the  guards  and  the  men  at  the 
table  to  turn  their  heads  in  the  direction  of 
the  noise.  But  Jean  had  kept  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  his  wife's  ftice. 


TO   THE   RESCUE.  533 

She  raised  her  right  hand  and  placed  her 
forefinger  upon  her  lips ;  then  she  shook  her 
head.  Jean  understood  that  she  wished  him 
not  to  recognize  her.  He  would  save  her,  or 
would  raze  the  prison  to  the  ground.  Yes,  he 
would  save  her! 

But  who  was  that  old  man  with  white  hair 
following  her  and  leading  a  little  child?  He 
had  caught  sight  of  Grandpa  Drubal  and 
Will,  who  were  now  pushed  rudely  forward 
by  a  soldier.  "Am  I  dreaming?"  thought 
Jean  Vercingetorix  Dnrand.  He  tried  to  rise 
and  go  to  them,  but  his  limbs  failed  him. 

Two  guards  approached  Marcel  le  and 
brought  her  up  to  the  table.  She  hurled  one 
of  them  away  from  her,  whereupon  little  Will 
uttered  a  loud  cry,  and  running  to  Marcelle 
caught  her  frayed  and  worn  dress,  and  stood  in 
front  of  her  as  if  he  were  trying  to  protect  her. 

In  this  attitude  he  remained  for  a  full 
miaute,  looking  at  Jean  as  if  trying  to  recog- 
nize him.  Evidently  he  remembered  his  face, 
but  could  not  believe  that  the  interpreter  of 
the  hotel  in  the  Rue  Castiglione  had  become 
judge  in  this  dreadful  tribunal. 


534  UNDER  THE   RED   FLAG. 

"  Oh,  brush  away  the  woman  and  her  mome 
(child)  with  her,"  said  the  thin  piping  voice. 
"Into  the  cellule  promsoire  with  them  !  We 
have  work  before  us ! " 

* '  O  ui !  0  ui !  Cellule  promsoire  ! ' '  croaked 
the  young  men. 

Grandpa  Drubal  came  forward  and  raised 
his  hand.  He  was  about  to  speak. 

As  the  guards  were  approaching  Marcelle 
and  the  child  to  drag  them  to  the  fatal  door, 
a  new  clamor  arose  outside. 

The  self-appointed  judges  looked  anxiously 
at  each  other.  Perhaps  the  Yersaillists 
had  arrived.  But  the  noise  seemed  more 
significant  of  surprise  than  of  joy  and  dis- 
may. So  Marcelle  and  Will  were  pushed 
back  and  driven  with  Grandpa  Drubal  into 
a  corner,  and  the  guards  who  were  tak- 
ing them  to  death  ran  to  see  what  had 
happened. 

Presently  they  returned,  saying: 

"Three  messengers  from  General  Dom- 
browski  have  just  arrived  on  special  business. 
They  demand  to  see  a  delegate  from  the  Com- 
mune." 


TO  THE   RESCUE.  636 

"Let  them  enter,"  said  Jean  Vercingetorix 
Durand.  "  I  will  see  them." 

"No!  No!"  clamored  the  murderous 
throng  around  the  red-covered  table.  "Let 
them  wait." 

"Who  dares  interfere  with  the  delegate 
from  the  Commune?"  shouted  Jean,  suddenly 
transformed  into  a  lion  by  the  imminent  peril 
of  the  wife  of  his  bosom,  and  the  foreigners 
whom  he  knew  to  be  innocent.  He  drew  his 
sword  and  struck  a  blow  on  the  table  with  it. 
"  I  will  cast  you  into  prison  if  I  hear  another 
word  from  your  lips.  Let  the  messengers 
from  General  Dombrowski  enter  without 
delay.  Put  a  post  of  twenty  soldiers  at  the 
door,  or  we  shall  have  the  crowd  rushing  in 
upon  us." 

"C'est  drole!"  said  the  thin  piping  voice, 
with  a  satiric  twang  in  it.  "Why,  they 
told  me  in  the  Faubourg  last  night  that 
General  Dombrowski  was  mortally  wounded 
at  Clichy." 

"  Liar ! "  shrieked  Jean  Vercingetorix 
Durand,  who  did  not  know  whether  the  report 
was  true  or  not,  but  was  determined  that  it 


536         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

should  not  spoil  his  plan  for  stopping  the 
slaughter  of  the  hostages.  "Say  that  again 
and  I  will  send  you  to  taste  the  delights  of  the 
cellule  promsoire  !  " 

The  thin,  piping  voice  began  once  more,  but 
broke  off  in  a  sort  of  frightened  "quack!" 
Jean's  threat  had  had  its  effect. 

Grandpa  Drubal,  who  understood  but  little 
that  was  said,  but  who  had  instantly  recog- 
nized the  ex-interpreter,  now  sat  down  on  the 
steps  and  called  Will  and  Marcelle  to  him. 

"It  is  like  a  terrible  dream,"  said  the 
citizeness.  "I  understand  nothing,  but  I 
feel  that  my  husband  will  save  us  all." 

Grandpa  Drubal  did  not  feel  convinced. 
He  thought  that  this  was  only  a  respite.  As 
he  closed  his  tired  eyes  and  stretched  his 
arms  toward  poor  little  Will,  it  seemed  to  him 
as  if  the  world  were  disappearing  forever. 

And  now  came  a  clatter  of  weapons,  and  a 
great  shout  of  anger,  as  the  prison  doors  were 
closed  in  the  face  of  the  mob,  and  the  mes- 
sengers of  Dombrowski  were  ushered  in. 

Three  stranger  figures  never  appeared  on  a 


TO  THE   RESCUE.  537 

more  dreadful  scene.  One  of  the  new-comers 
was  slender,  and  of  middle  age,  the  other  two 
were  slight  and  boyish.  The  faces  of  all  were 
so  begrimed  with  smoke  and  powder  that 
their  features  could  scarcely  be  distinguished. 

The  taller  of  the  three  had  been  wounded 
in  the  right  cheek,  and  wore  a  blood-stained 
bandage.  The  cap  of  the  younger  was  pierced 
with  bullets,  and  his  left  shoe  was  splashed 
with  blood.  The  garments,  too,  were  dis- 
ordered. 

Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand  sheathed  his 
sword  and  advanced,  in  a  stately  manner,  with 
one  hand  thrust  into  his  crimson  sash,  to  meet 
the  messengers  from  the  renowned  general. 

When  he  came  near  the  youngest  one,  he 
uttered  a  loud  cry  and  held  out  his  hand  im- 
pulsively. Then  the  group  withdrew  into  a 
corner  and  conversed  together  in  low  tones 
for  several  minutes,  after  which  Jean  Ver- 
cingetorix Durand  advanced  to  the  middle  of 
the  room  and  said  : 

"Citizens,  I  hold  in  my  hand  the  order  of 
General  Dombrowski  to  release,  immediately, 
the  American  General  Corners,  his  grandson, 


538        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

and  the  nurse,  who  have  been  unjustly  con- 
fined here.  The  American  general,  who  has 
had  great  experience,  is  needed  by  General 
Dombrowski  to  aid  him  in  the  defence  of 
Paris.  "  Here  is  the  order,  citizens,  to  release 
him,  and  all  his,  instantly,  and  here  the  seal 
of  the  Commune." 

One  of  the  three  men  now  handed  a  paper  to 
Jean,  who  held  it  up.  "Service  de  la  Com- 
mune," he  said. 

The  men  crowded  up  to  see  it.  "Dogs!" 
he  cried,  thrusting  it  into  their  faces.  "  Do 
you  doubt  it?"  They  fell  back  as  if  the 
paper  he  flourished  had  been  a  loaded  pistol. 
Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand  returned  it  to  the 
young  man,  who  put  it  in  his  breast  pocket, 
and  stood  quite  still. 

Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand  was  master  of 
the  situation  now. 

"  The  sitting  of  the  tribunal  is  suspended ! " 
he  said,  in  his  loudest  tones.  "  The  American 
general  and  his  people  will  be  instantly  re- 
leased. I  will  accompany  them  to  a  point 
from  which  they  can  safely  reach  General 
Dombrowski." 


TO  THE  RESCUE.  639 

Guards  cleared  the  hall,  and  the  blood- 
thirsty cigarette-smoking  "representatives" 
of  the  people  found  themselves  hustled  into 
the  Place  before  they  could  recover  from 
their  surprise. 

The  youngest  of  Dombrowski's  messengers 
now  approached  Grandpa  Drubal.  "Put 
your  hands,  over  Will's  mouth,"  he  said,  in 
a  whisper,  "  and  hold  him  tight.  You  are 
saved.  Don't  speak  now,  but  get  ready  to 
come  with  us." 

Grandpa  Drubal' s  white  head  fell  heavily 
backward.  He  had  not  only  recognized 
Frank,  but  his  keen  eyes  had  pierced  the 
disguise  of  Almon  Corners,  and  he  knew  that 
his  long  lost  son  was  found  again. 

The  great  joy  had  overcome  him,  and  he 
had  fainted. 

"  Courage  !  "  whispered  Jean  Vercingetorix 
Durand  in  English  to  Frank.  "We  must 
revive  the  old  man,  and  he  must  put  on  a  bold 
front  while  we  pass  through  the  mob  of  ruf- 
fians in  the  Place.  And  wrap  up  the  little 
boy's  head  in  a  coat ;  he  must  not  see  the 
horrible  spectacle  out  there." 


540         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Ten  minutes  later,  the  procession  of  the 
rescued  and  the  rescuers,  escorted  by  a  strong 
squad  of  Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand's  sol- 
diers, issued  from  a  side  door  of  the  prison, 
and  began  to  make  its  way  toward  the  right  of 
the  great  Place,  leaving  the  shouting  and 
screaming  mob  of  blood-thirsty  men  and 
women  on  the  left. 

"Quick,"  said  Frank,  "they  are  beginning 
to  move  toward  us.  We  shall  have  them  all 
on  our  backs  in  five  minutes,  and  they  won't 
listen  to  reason." 

Grandpa  Drubal  leaned  heavily  upon  the 
shoulder  of  his  son,  and  the  fresh  air  seemed 
to  make  him  dizzy. 

"I  must  rest  a  moment,"  he  moaned.  "I 
can't  walk  so  fast." 

At  this  moment  Frank  gave  a  cry  of  min- 
gled rage  and  dismay,  for  he  saw,  standing  at 
the  door  of  one  of  the  shabby-looking  houses, 
the  weird  figure  of  the  little  hunchback  whom 
he  had  seen  when  he  went  with  General  Dom- 
browski  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville. 

The  boy  observed  that  the  sinister  face  of  the 
deformed  man  was  lighted  up  with  a  savage 


TO  THE  RESCUE.  541 

smile.  He  hoped  that  he  might  pass  without 
recognition,  but  the  little  hunchback  came 
forward,  and  mockingly  took  off  his  hat. 

"  AVho  is  this  little  lame  son  of  a  sparrow?" 
said  Jean  Vercingetorix  Durand,  and  at  the 
same  moment  two  big  soldiers  poked  their  gun 
barrels  rudely  into  the  hunchback's  face. 

Just  then  Grandpa  Drubal  gave  another 
moan,  and  his  son  was  obliged  to  lower  him  to 
the  sidewalk,  where  he  sat  down,  holding  his 
head  in  his  hands. 

While  the  little  company  were  gathering 
about  the  old  man,  anxious  to  help  him,  a 
great  shout  arose  from  the  barricades  at  the 
entrance  of  the  Place.  It  was  a  cry  of 
mingled  rage  and  fear. 

At  the  same  moment  there  was  a  rush 
of  newly  come  troops  retreating  toward  Pere 
la  Chaise,  and  Frank  suddenly  felt  two  warm 
hands  applied  to  his  cheeks,  and  received  a 
kiss  upon  his  forehead  before  he  could  get  a 
definite  idea  of  the  person  who  thus  saluted 
him.  Then  he  heard  a  familiar  voice,  and 
looked  up  in  astonishment.  It  was  Laurette, 
the  Laurette  who  had  so  cleverly  tricked  Dr. 


542         UNDER  THE  KED  FLAG. 

L' Argent  at  the  barricade,  and  who  had  fled 
after  giving  Frank  her  message  from  Dom- 
browski. 

"Here  we  are  again!"  she  said,  in  her 
round,  ringing  tones.  "  It  is  a  regular  family 
party.  But  you  can't  stay  here,"  she  said, 
suddenly  sinking  her  voice  to  a  whisper. 
"You  must  move  back  with  the  retreat,  and 
trust  to  luck  for  a  chance  to  get  into  safer 
quarters." 

The  little  hunchback  now  stepped  forward 
again  with  an  important  air,  as  if  he  were 
about  to  take  possession  of  the  whole  party. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

CALM   AFTER  STORM. 

I  KNOW  that  bird  there,"  said  Laurette. 
"He  used  to  be  an  employe  in  the  Cen- 
tral Markets,  and  was  always  imposing  fines 
and  making  mischief  for  the  poor  work-girls. 
They  say  he  belongs  to  the  Committee  of 
Safety  now.  I  wonder  what  mischief  he  is 
hatching." 

Poor  Frank  understood  but  vaguely  what 
Laurette  was  saying,  but  Almon  Corners 
caught  at  it  eagerly,  and  saw  that  danger 
was  hovering  over  the  party.  How  or  what  he 
did  not  exactly  know.  He  was  about  to  wave 
away  the  little  man  with  the  explanation  that 
they  were  under  the  Commune's  protection, 
when  a  few  words  explained  the  hunchback's 
motives,  and  threw  a  flood  of  light  upon  many 
things  which  had  before  been  mysterious. 

"Citizens!"  cried  the  hunchback.  "Will 
you  stand  here,  and  see  this  group  of  conspira- 


544         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

tors  artfully  drawn  out  of  the  clutches  of  the 
Commune!  This  tall  fellow  here,  in  the  uni- 
form that  doesn't  fit  him,  is  a  spy.  He  has 
been  maintaining  relations  with  Versailles  for 
months  past,  by  means  of  carrier-pigeons. 
These  other  people  are  his  accomplices.  The 
old  man  is  one  of  them.  I  had  him  arrested 
and  locked  up  with  his  little  grandson  here 
long  ago,  but  now  they  have  got  them  out. 
It  is  a  black  conspiracy,  citizens,  and  we 
are  betrayed ! "  He  raised  his  arms  high 
above  his  misshapen  back  and  head,  and 
shouted  and  shrieked  in  the  vehemence  of 
his  emotions. 

Sny  understood  all  that  was  said,  and  a 
feeling  of  horror  ran  through  him  when  he 
saw  clearly,  for  the  first  time,  why  it  was  that 
Grandpa  Drubal  had  been  arrested,  and  why 
Frank  had  been  subjected  to  all  the  anguish 
and  suspense  of  the  past  few  weeks.  He  recog- 
nized that  the  peril  was  deadly,  and  that  he 
might  be  torn  in  pieces  by  the  excited  throng. 

But  Sny  was  a  youth  of  expedients,  fertile 
in  resources,  and  quick  to  act.  Like  a  true 
American,  he  recognized  that  truth  would  be 


CALM   AFTER  STORM.  545 

safer  than  any  evasion,  so  he  stepped  forward 
and,  catching  the  little  hunchback  by  his 
hair,  he  shook  him  with  such  fury  that  the 
fellow  gasped  for  breath,  and  clasping  his 
hands,  begged  for  mercy. 

Laurette  was  artfully  swaying  the  Commun- 
ists, who  were  retreating  along  with  her,  to 
side  with  Frank  and  his  companions,  and  she 
stared  open-mouthed  at  Sny's  intervention 
and  at  the  flood  of  French,  somewhat  mis- 
pronounced but  all  clear  and  comprehensible, 
which  he  poured  forth  at  the  hunchback. 

"  Fool  and  idiot !  "  he  cried,  giving  a  shake 
with  each  epithet.  "Then  it  was  because  you 
were  spying  on  me  that  you  sent  that  poor  old 
man  to  prison,  and  made  him  and  his  little 
grandson  run  the  risk  of  their  lives  in  that 
horrible  place  !  It  was  because  of  me  that  you 
have  done  this  great  wrong,  was  it  ?  And  you 
thought,  triple  ass  that  you  are,  that  you 
were  serving  the  cause  of  the  Commune  in 
meddling  with  what  I  was  doing  !  Let  me  tell 
you  then,  -  Mr.  Hunchback,  that  you  have 
made  yourself  ridiculous,  and  laid  yourself 
open  to  serious  correction!" 

35 


546         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

He  paused  for  a  moment  and  gave  the 
hunchback  a  chance  to  recover  his  breath,  and 
to  stammer :  u  But  if  you  are  not  a  spy,  then 
what  did  you  mean  by  sending  carrier-pigeons 
and  receiving  them  every  day  for  weeks? 
Tell  me  that!"  and  he  glanced  around  in 
triumph  upon  the  Communists,  who  were 
beginning  to  look  ominously  at  Sny. 

"  All  stuff  and  nonsense,"  said  Sny.  "How 
do  you  know  that  the  carrier-pigeons  ever 
went  to  Versailles  at  all?  Or  that  they  car- 
ried a  message  concerning  the  Commune  or 
any  of  its  movements,  or  anything  but 
meteorological  memoranda  ?  Do  you  under- 
stand, you  thundering  donkey?  Memoranda 
about  the  phenomena  of  the  heavens,  you  ass  1 
instead  of  what  is  taking  place  on  the  earth  ! 
It  is  a  long  story,  and  I  don' t  propose  to  ex- 
plain to  you  why  the  man,  in  whose  employ  I 
am,  didn't  want  his  observations  interrupted 
by  the  fighting.  I  ought  to  thrash  you 
soundly  for  accusing  me  of  spying,  you " 

Almon  Corners  listened  to  this  tirade  with  a 
sense  of  stupefaction.  He  understood  dimly 
that  Sny  was  playing  a  part,  but  he  saw  that 


CALM   AFTER  STORM.  047 

the  big  words  and  the  rough  manner  in  which 
he  treated  his  accuser,  besides  the  fact  that  he 
was  in  Communist  uniform  and  appeared  to 
be  in  good  and  regular  standing,  was  having 
its  effect  on  the  crowd. 

Finally  Laurette  stepped  up  to  the  hunch- 
back and  thrust  him  out  of  the  way  with  one 
deft  push  of  her  plump  arm.  "Don't  you 
see,"  she  said  to  the  rough  men  around, 
"  that  this  old  man  is  faint,  and  must  be 
taken  out  of  the  crowd?" 

Two  or  three  minutes  later  the  little  party 
of  Americans  was  moving  slowly  toward  the 
slopes  of  Pere  la  Chaise,  and  the  hunchback, 
who  had  been  the  cause  of  so  much  misery  to 
them,  had  disappeared  in  the  throng  around 
the  prison. 

On  the  afternoon  of  Monday  the  29th  of 
May,  just  as  long  lines  of  prisoners,  guarded 
by  the  sombre-looking  gendarmes  on  horse- 
back and  by  columns  of  infantry,  were 
reaching  the  central  boulevards  on  their  way 
from  Belleville  and  Pere  la  Chaise,  where 
they  had  been  conquered  and  captured,  a 


548         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

little  company  came  out  upon  one  of  the 
great  balconies  of  the  Grand  Hotel,  overlook- 
ing the  Boulevard  des  Capacities,  and  leaned 
on  the  iron  railing  to  watch  the  scene  below. 

Grandpa  Drubal  and  his  newly  found  son 
and  his  grandsons  were  safe  at  last,  and  with 
them  was  the  faithful  Sny,  full  of  contrition 
because  he  had  been  the  unwitting  means  of 
causing  them  so  much  trouble  and  placing 
them  in  such  deadly  peril. 

The  Commune  was  crushed.  The  serpent 
of  the  insurrection  was  dead  at  last,  after  hav- 
ing pulled  down  upon  its  folds  many  a  stately 
monument,  many  noble  buildings;  after  hav- 
ing wrought  a  havoc  such  as  the  century  had 
never  seen  before.  Day  by  day  and  step  by 
step  the  regular  army  had  pushed  back  the 
furious  insurrectionists  to  the  heights,  where 
they  made  their  last  stand  because  there  was 
no  chance  to  retreat. 

On  the  evening  of  Friday,  forty-eight  hours 
after  the  deliverance  of  Grandpa  Drubal, 
Generals  Vinoy  and  Ladmirault  united  in  a 
grand  attack  upon  all  the  insurgents  on  the 
heights  of  Belleville,  Menilmontant,  and  the 


CALM   AFTER  STORM.  649 

cemetery  of  Pere  ia  Chaise.  During  the 
whole  of  Saturday,  the  28th  of  May,  great 
batteries,  which  the  regulars  had  placed  upon 
the  heights  of  Montmartre,  fired  incessantly 
across  the  city,  raining  shells  upon  Belleville, 
and  into  the  place  of  tombs  where  the  Com- 
munists had  intrenched  themselves.  By  a 
series  of  brilliant  charges,  barricade  after 
barricade  was  taken  by  the  Duke  of  Auer- 
stadt,  and  gradually  General  Ladmirault 
reached  the  summit  of  the  heights. 

Meanwhile  General  Douay  struck  the  posi- 
tions of  the  Communists  at  Belleville  in  their 
centre,  and  General  Vinoy,  pushing  his  men 
up  the  slopes  of  the  cemetery  of  Pere  la 
Chaise,  gave  the  crowning  blow.  They  then 
turned,  and  by  a  warm  charge  of  a  corps  of 
marines  on  the  barricades  at  La  Grande 
Roquette,  seized  the  prison  and  saved  many 
of  the  hostages  who  had  been  in  agonies  of 
suspense  for  more  than  a  week.  With  Vinoy 
at  Pere  la  Chaise,  the  Commune  was  helpless. 
It  was  death  or  surrender. 

On  Sunday  at  four  o'clock  all  was  over,  and 
Marshal  MacMahon's  proclamation  announced 


550         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

the  deliverance  of  Paris.  "Order,  labor,  and 
tranquillity  will  now  revive,"  wrote  the  Mar- 
shal, who  was  a  few  years  later  to  be  Presi- 
dent of  the  French  Republic,  and  to  whose 
energy  and  skill  was  due  the  suppression  of 
the  greatest  insurrection  of  modern  times. 

"  Sny,"  said  the  sweet  voice  of  little  Will, 
"why  do  some  of  the  prisoners  wear  their 
jackets  inside  out  ?"  And  the  child  pointed 
to  a  melancholy  procession  of  prisoners  strag- 
gling between  two  lines  of  gendarmes  along 
the  sunlit  boulevard  below. 

Sny  gave  them  a  sharp  look.  "  That,"  he 
said,  "is  because  they  are  deserters  from  the 
regular  army.  See,  their  caps  are  put  on  with 
the  peak  to  the  back,  and  their  jackets  have 
been  turned  inside  out  as  a  sign  of  disgrace." 

"But  why  did  they  desert,  Sny?"  said  the 
boy. 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  they 
thought  the  insurrection  was  the  right  side." 

"Oh,  they  could  not  think  that,"  said 
little  Will.  "Grandpa  always  said  that  it 
was  a  wicked  and  dreadful  thing,  and  that 


CALM   AFTER  STORM.  551 

the  Commune  would  finish  in  blood  ;  didn't 
he,  Frankie?" 

"Hush,  Will!"  said  Frank,  in  a  whisper. 
"Here  comes  Marcelle." 

And  little  Will  stepped  back  from  the  bal- 
cony to  the  door  of  the  great  drawing-room, 
which  opened  directly  upon  it,  clung  to  the 
skirts  of  Marcelle,  and  looked  up  sympathiz- 
ingly  into  her  pale  face. 

She  no  longer  seemed  the  warlike  virago  of 
those  first  days  at  the  hotel  in  the  Rue  de 
Castiglione.  She  had  passed  through  the 
deep  waters  and  had  learned  to  suffer,  and 
the  crowning  blow — which  had  been  the  loss 
of  her  husband,  the  fiery  Jean  Yercingetorix 
Durand,  who  had  fallen  during  the  fight  of 
Saturday  in  Pere  la  Chaise — had  left  her  in  a 
kind  of  a  marble  calm.  She  had  little  now 
left  to  look  forward  to  in  France,  and  Frank 
and  Will  had  already  begged  their  grand- 
father to  take  her  with  them  when  they  re- 
turned to  America. 

Marcelle  stood  just  within  the  drawing- 
room.  She  was  still  fearful  lest  someone 
might  denounce  her,  and  she  might  be 


552         UNDER  THE  EED  FLAG. 

dragged  away,  possibly  to  execution,  with 
the  other  poor  wretches  who  were  passing 
below  on  the  road  to  their  death. 

"It  all  seems  like  a  dream,  doesn't  it, 
Marcelle  ? "  said  Frank. 

She  raised  her  hand  to  her  forehead,  as  if 
to  brush  away  some  unpleasant  memories ; 
then  she  said,  with  her  sharp  staccato  accent : 

"A  hideous  dream:  one  that  makes  my 
blood  run  cold  to  remember.  But  it  was  not 
a  dream,  as  you  see  by  what  is  going  on 
below." 

At  that  moment  a  servant  appeared  and  an- 
nounced Dr.  L' Argent. 

Marcelle  turned  pale,  and  rushed  away  into 
an  inner  room  before  the  boys  could  beg  her 
to  remain.  "Poor  thing!"  said  Frank,  "no 
wonder  she  is  frightened.  I  am  sure  I  should 
be  nervous  enough  if  I  thought  anyone  were 
likely  to  denounce  me  to  those  troopers  below. 
She  is  safest  there  with  grandpa.  He  needs 
her  care,  too.  I  don't  believe  he  will  be  out 
of  bed  for  three  weeks." 

"If  your  grandpa  was  anything  but  the 
most  extraordinary  man  that  ever  lived," 


CALM   AFTER  STORM.  553 

said  Sny,  drawling  out  his  syllables  with 
great  deliberation,  "he  would  have  died  from 
the  shock  of  any  one  of  the  half  dozen  sur- 
prises that  he  has  had  lately.  Why,  he  is 
just  a  natural  wonder  ;  one  of  the  old  timers  ; 
one  of  those  men  that  they  don't  raise 
nowadays." 

"Grandpa  is  all  right,"  said  little  Will 
softly.  "  Now  that  he  has  found  papa,  he 
will  live  for  ever  so  many  years  yet." 

"  Ah,  there  you  are,  my  fine  fellows  ! "  said 
a  joyous  voice,  with  an  Australian  burr  in  it. 
"  I  am  glad  to  find  you  all  alive  and  well  after 
passing  through  so  many  horrors.  Come  now, 
my  brave  Frank,  without  Dr.  L' Argent  you 
would  have  been  in  a  pretty  pickle  up  there 
among  the  tombs  the  other  day,  hey  ?  Don't 
you  think  I  deserve  the  medal  for  saving  life  ? 
Took  you  twice  out  of  perilous  positions,  hey  ? 
I  shall  expect  your  Congress  over  the  water 
there  to  vote  me  a  gold  watch,  as  they  do 
when  a  foreign  sailor  saves  one  of  their  sea- 
faring men.  And  you,  Master  Sny,  doesn't 
your  conscience  give  you  a  twinge  now  and 
then  when  you  think  that  your  fancy  for 


554        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

carrier-pigeons  got  all  this  interesting  family 
into  such  a  mess  of  troubles  ? " 

Sny  colored  up,  and  then  he  turned  pale. 
"  You  don't  need  to  remind  me  of  it,  doctor," 
he  said  softly.  "  If  any  man  ever  felt  sorry 
for  anything  which  he  was  not  strictly  to 
blame  for,  I  am  sure  I  feel  sorry  for  that. 
But  who  could  have  dreamed— 

"There  now,"  interrupted  Frank,  "no 
more  of  this,  doctor.  And  you,  Sny,  no  more 
repentance.  Who  knows,  if  we  had  never  met 
you — we  might  have  gone  away —  "  and  here 
his  voice  faltered,  and  something  very  like  a 
sob  came  into  his  throat,  "and  my  father 
might  never  have  been  found!" 

"Ah,  well,  Frank,"  said  the  doctor,  drop- 
ping into  a  chair  at  the  window  and  lashing 
his  boots  with  his  light  cane,  "it  has  been  a 
season  of  horrors,  and  if  I  am  not  mistaken 
there  is  more  to  come.  If  I  had  my  way,  all 
those  poor  creatures  below  would  be  pardoned 
and  sent  about  their  business  ;  but  the  govern- 
ment seems  determined  to  give  them  a  lesson. 
Among  all  that  I  have  seen  sacrificed  in  these 
mad  times  I  don' t  know  that  I  regret  the  fate 


CALM  AFTER  STORM.  555 

of  anyone  more  than  that  of  poor  Laurette. 
Ah  !  she  was  a  keen  one,  a  real  woman  of  the 
people,  all  ruse  and  smiles  and  stratagems. 
She  could  lie  like  a  tramp,  and  look  you  right 
in  the  eye  all  the  time.  She  could  fight  like  a 
true  soldier,  and  yet  she  was  a  real  woman, 
too.  She  was  almost  beautiful  as  she  lay 
there  on  the  barricade,  with  her  hands  clasped 
together,  after  the  fight.  I  wonder  what 
really  killed  her?  There  was  no  bullet  wound 
visible.  Perhaps  she  died  from  sheer  excite- 
ment, as  many  a  man  and  woman  has  done  in 
these  days." 

"Heart-break, possibly,"  said  Sny.  "  When 
she  ran  away  from  us  and  jumped  on  the 
barricade  she  looked  like  a  person  who  was 
going  to  her  death.  I  could  not  stop  her,  and 
I  don' t  believe  anything  human  could.  She 
seemed  to  think,  after  the  regulars  had  got 
the  mastery,  that  there  was  nothing  worth 
living  for." 

"  And  so,  very  likely,  there  was  not,"  said 
the  doctor  musingly.  "  Poor  thing,  it  was  far 
better  for  her  to  have  perished  on  the  barri- 
cade, even  for  a  mistaken  idea,  than  to  be 


556         UNDER  THE  BED  FLAG. 

dragged  through  the  streets  and  imprisoned 
for  weeks,  and  then  perhaps  conducted  to  the 
execution  post." 

"Oh,  dear,"  said  little  Will.  "What 
horrible  times  !  Why  can't  people  love  each 
other  instead  of  hating  and  fighting  all  the 
time  ?  Why  do  they  fight,  Dr.  L' Argent  ? " 

"I  give  you  my  word,  my  dear  child,"  said 
the  doctor,  "I  don't  know,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve they  rightly  know  themselves." 

"If  I  live  a  hundred  years  longer,"  said 
Frank.  "I  never  shall  forget  the  last  thing  I 
saw  just  before  you  and  your  men  gathered  us 
up  and  took  us  away.  We  had  fallen  back  as 
far  as  we  could,  away  from  the  fighting,  so 
that  the  regulars  might  see  that  we  were  not 
combatants,  and  I  stood  just  at  the  top  of 
a  long  hill  which  was  fairly  crowded  with 
curious-looking  marble  tombs.  I  remember 
thinking  what  a  strange  place  it  was  for  two 
armies  belonging  to  the  same  nation  to  be 
fighting  in,  and  while  we  were  all  huddled 
together,  expecting  very  likely  to  be  shot  at 
by  your  men,  or  perhaps  by  some  of  the  re- 
treating Communists,  I  looked  down ;  and 


CALM   AFTER   STORM.  557 

there,  almost  at  my  feet,  on  the  very  top  of  a 
little  heap  of  dead  folks,  lay  the  hunchback, 
the  man  whom  I  told  you  about,  doctor.  Do 
you  remember?  " 

"Yes,  the  real  author  of  your  poor  grand- 
father's woes." 

Here  Sny  looked  very  uncomfortable,  as  lie 
always  did  when  the  subject  of  Grandpa 
Drubal's  mishaps  were  mentioned. 

"It  gave  me  a  great  shock,  I  can  tell  you. 
At  first  I  fancied  that  the  little  man  was  alive, 
and  was  crawling  up  the  slope  to  strike  one 
more  blow  at  us.  He  seemed  to  have  hated 
us  terribly,  although  we  had  never  done  the 
slightest  thing  to  injure  him  or  his  cause. 
Well,  he's  gone  with  the  others,  poor  wretch  ! 
I  suppose  he  thought  his  name  would  be  his- 
torical, and,  by  the  way,  we  don't  even  know 
what  his  name  was.  But  when  I  think  of 
how  he  bullied  General  Dombrowski  one  day, 
when  I  called  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville  with  him, 
and  then  to  think  of  his  miserable  end  up 
there  among  the  tombs — 

"It  gives  you  a  real  impression  of  the 
strangeness  of  human  destiny,  don't  it, 


558         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

Frankie  ?  "  said  the  doctor.  "  Well,  well,  life 
is  a  big  drama.  We  must  not  judge  anybody 
very  harshly." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Sny  ;  "if  anybody  is 
to  be  judged  harshly,  I  think  it  is  the  man 
who  turns  against  his  country,  his  city, 
his  own  nation,  just  to  gratify  a  miserable 
ambition  or  whim,  in  the  hope  of  establishing 
some  petty  doctrine.  I  have  not  got  any  senti- 
mental objections  to  thinking  that  such  men 
deserve  exactly  what  these  fellows  down  below 
are  going  to  get,"  and  he  pointed  to  the 
melancholy  train  of  prisoners. 

"Now  then,"  said  the  doctor,  "to  see  the 
good  grandpa !  Come,  little  Will,  you  must 
not  hear  any  more  of  this  wild  talk.  Your 
mind  has  supped  full  of  horrors.  Now  you 
must  have  a  long  rest,  and  go  down  to  Nor- 
mandy and  play  in  the  green  fields  before 
you  sail  for  America." 

"And  so  he  shall,  doctor,"  said  Almon 
Corners,  coming  in  with  a  bright  smile  on  his 
pale  face. 

"  Bravo,  mon  ami,"  said  the  doctor. 
"Those  are  the  right  sentiments.  We  all 


CALM   AFTER  STORM.  559 

need  rest,  and  if  I  can  leave  I  will  go  with 
you  to  some  quiet  country  place,"  and  slip- 
ping his  arm  through  that  of  Almon  Corners, 
the  doctor  bustled  away  with  him  to  see 
Grandpa  Drubal,  who  was  prospering  under 
his  skilful  care. 

Little  Will  went  in  search  of  Marcelle,  with- 
out whom  he  was  never  happy  very  long,  and 
Sny  and  Frank  were  left  alone  on  the  balcony. 

"Well,  Sny,"  said  Frank,  "it  is  decided 
that  you  go  with  us.  Don't  say  no.  My 
father  would  not  be  satisfied  to  leave  you 
here.  Who  knows  what  may  happen  any  day 
iu  this  whirlpool  of  battle  and  bloodshed? 
Father  even  wants  you  to  go  to  America 
with  us." 

•'  Well,  that  demands  a  heap  of  thinking," 
said  Sny,  in  his  gravest  manner.  But  a  bright 
light  was  dancing  in  his  gray  eyes,  and  it  was 
evident  that  the  proposition  from  Frank's  lips 
was  a  pleasant  one  for  him  to  hear.  A  mo- 
ment later  he  said,  with  increased  gravity: 
"I  reckon  that  your  father  has  not  told  you 
that  he  found  out  where  I  used  to  live  ?  " 

Frank  looked  up  in  genuine  astonishment. 


560        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

"Why,  that's  glorious,"  he  said.  "No,  he 
has  told  me  nothing." 

"Well,  it  isn't  any  great  secret,"  said  Sny. 
"  Your  father  has  seen  my  father  many  a  time 
when  he  was  hunting  down  in  the  Southwest. 
My  father  was  a  great  sportsman  until  he  sort 
of  got  to— drinking— and  cutting  up,  and  then 
I  ran  away  and  went  to  sea,  come  over  here, 
and  that's  all  there  is  to  it." 

Frank  drew  a  long  breath.  "Why  didn't 
you  tell  me  this  before,  Sny?"  lie  said. 

"Well,  it  only  came  to  a  head  yesterday," 
was  the  long,  gaunt  youth's  answer.  "Now, 
I  reckon  Til  have  to  go  home  and  hunt  up  the 
old  man  and  reform  him.  I  think  that  will 
keep  me  pretty  busy  for  a  year  or  two." 

Sny's  gray  eyes  twinkled,  but  his  lips  trem- 
bled, and  Frank  saw  that  it  was  not  safe  to 
pursue  the  subject  any  farther. 

"There  is  one  thing,  Sny,"  said  Frank, 
"that  I  have  always  longed  to  know;  and 
now  it  is  all  over,  perhaps  there  is  no  harm  in 
asking  how  you  came  to  be  interested  in  send- 
ing messages  by  the  carrier-pigeons." 

"It  was  all  an  accident,"  said  Sny.     "The 


CALM  AFTER  STORM.  561 

Belgian  painter  who  had  the  studio  used  to 
amuse  himself  with  sending  pigeons  from 
there  to  his  native  village  in  Belgium.  When 
the  first  siege  came,  and  he  was  thinking  of 
leaving  before  he  got  closed  in  for  good,  he 
let  me  have  the  studio  to  stay  in  on  condition 
that  I  should  send  him  a  message  by  one  of  the 
birds  every  little  while  to  let  him  know  that 
a  certain  lot  of  things,  which  he  had  concealed 
in  the  studio,  were  still  safe.  I  reckon  I  ought 
not  to  tell  you  what  these  things  were,  be- 
cause I  promised  not  to,  but  they  were 
valuable.  I  reckon  he'll  get  'em  safely  some 
day." 

Frank's  imagination  at  once  conjured  up 
visions  of  gold  and  silver,  hidden  in  the  secret 
recesses  between  the  floors  over  the  studio  on 
Montmartre,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  So  I  kept  up  my  pigeon  telegraph,  as  you 
might  call  it,  and  used  to  get  responses  from 
him,  and,  as  luck  would  have  it,  we  were  not 
interrupted  during  the  first  siege  at  all. 
When  the  Commune  came  on,  one  day  I  was 
surprised  to  get  a  message  from  him  by  the 
old  boss  gray  bird  there,  you  know,  asking 


562         UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

me  to  keep  him  posted  about  the  Commune's 
movements.  I  thought  it  over,  and  at  first  it 
seemed  to  me  it  would  be  kind  of  wrong  to  do 
it.  And  then,  when  I  saw  them  murdering 
and  robbing  and  doing  all  sorts  of  desperate 
things,  I  made  up  my  mind  that  they  did  not 
deserve  my  help  and  that  the  other  side  did. 
And  pretty  soon  I  discovered  that  the  mes- 
sages I  sent  out  to  him  went  around  to  Ver- 
sailles all  right.  He  couldn't  send  me  any 
money  for  a  while,  as  that  would  have  given 
us  away,  and  that  made  it  hard  sledding,  as 
you  know.  But  we  worked  quite  a  game 
against  the  Commune,  till  our  little  hunch- 
back friend  happened  to  get  hold  of  it,  and 
you  know  the  rest." 

"Why,  it's  a  regular  romance,  Sny.  You 
ought  to  have  a  reward  from  the  government. 
And  what  became  of  all  the  pigeons  1 " 

"Oh,  they  are  all  alive  and  well,  I  suppose. 
You  saw  the  boss  gray  bird  when  you  came 
into  Paris  with  the  regulars.  I've  carried  him 
stowed  in  my  pocket  and  managed  to  feed 
him  all  through  the  late  unpleasantness. 
He's  here  now."  He  tapped  his  capacious 


CALM   AFTER  STORM.  563 

breast.  "We'll  hunt  the  others  up  before 
we  leave  Paris.  I  got  quite  fond  of  them," 
added  Sny ;  "but  if  I  had  supposed  they 
were  going  to  get  Grandpa  Drubal  and  the 
rest  of  you  into  such  a  peck  of  trouble,  I 
reckon  I  should  have  wrung  all  their  necks 
long  ago." 

As  Sny  finished  speaking,  a  crash  of 
cymbals  and  a  roll  of  drums  announced  the 
approach  of  a  marching  brigade,  and  with 
light  springy  step  and  with  radiant  mien  the 
regular  troops  passed  quickly  along,  bringing 
up  the  rear  of  the  procession  of  prisoners. 
The  great  band  was  playing  a  brilliant  oper- 
atic air,  the  notes  of  which  seemed  hardly  to 
harmonize  with  the  warlike  scene,  but  to 
announce  that  the  end  of  bloodshed  and  of 
suffering  had  come,  and  that  the  capital  was 
once  more  to  resume  its  traditional  gayety. 

"That  music  sounds  good,  Sny,"  said 
Frank,  leaning  over  the  balcony.  "Heigh 
ho  !  In  this  sunshine  up  here  among  the 
trees,  and  with  this  merry  music  ringing  in 
my  ears,  I  can  almost  imagine  that  the  whole 
history  of  the  last  two  months  has  been  noth- 


564        UNDER  THE  RED  FLAG. 

ing  but  a  dream,  and  that  I  have  just  woke 
up  out  of  it." 

"Frankie,"  said  little  Will,  suddenly  reap- 
pearing, "  what  is  that  nice  music  for  ? " 

"It  is  to  make  the  soldiers  march  quickly 
when  they  are  tired,  I  suppose,  Will,"  said 
Frank. 

"  But  why  must  they  march  when  they  are 
tired,  Frankie  ?"  asked  the  little  fellow. 

"Ah,  now,  Will,  if  you  have  begun  with 
your  'whys,'  I  know  that  you  won't  stop  for 
half  an  hour  unless  I  just  cut  short  your 
questions  by  running  away." 

And  he  stepped  back  into  the  drawing-room, 
leaving  Sny  to  face  the  child's  light  artillery 
of  questions. 


THE  END. 


i  m 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


•    NOV  3     1947T 


APR  2     1953 

pro  10-^ 

IAY07199P 


DEC  0  5  2002 
UCLAYRL/1LL 


QLOCT 102005 


PS 

2174  King  - 

K:5€n  Under  the  red 

flag.          .] 


-ft! 


PS 
2174 

K38u 


